


911

by GettinGrimey



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Character Death, Domestic Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt Rick, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Negan Humor, Past Rape/Non-con, Protective Negan (Walking Dead), Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-10-23 13:15:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 52,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10720047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GettinGrimey/pseuds/GettinGrimey
Summary: Rick and Shane have been married a couple months shy of a year. Everything was perfect. Or so it seemed from the outside looking in. A large, picture-perfect home in Atlanta, Georgia with a huge, fenced-in yard. Two perfectly healthy children from Rick's previous marriage. Carl, a 16 year old boy. And Judith, a precious 12 month old baby girl. Two police officers that seemed to be hopelessly and helplessly, head over heels in love. Who could ask for anything more, right? Right.





	1. Chapter 1

 

Shane had himself a nasty, jealous streak. Rick was a _very_ attractive man. He didn't see it himself, but everyone else did. Shane hated it. Hated how his husband, _his_ _property_ , would always draw attention from others. Men and women alike. People that had no _rights_ to this man. No _claim_ on him. Rick received stares no matter where they went. The movies. The grocery store. The gym. Oh, God how Shane hated it.  

   
 

Rick thought it was funny. Not so much in a ha-ha funny, but more like a strange funny. To him, well he was just another guy. An average, ordinary looking guy. He actually hated looking at himself. Avoided looking at his own pictures and watching video of himself like the plague. He just didn't get it. 

   
 

Shane has always been attracted to Rick since the two men met on Rick's first day at the police department. Rick was married to Lori at the time. Carl was 6 years old. Shane took one look at Mr. Rick Grimes with his soft, dark curls, scruffy face, sexy, ever-so-slightly bowed legs and the bluest eyes he had ever seen in his life. He swore it was like looking into two endless buckets of blue. Not to mention the man's ass. Holy shit! He didn't just have a nice ass. Oh _no_. It was one of those, wish-I-could-squeeze-the-fuck-out-of-it-and-sink-my-teeth-into-it asses. He instantly felt the air get sucked right out of his lungs.  

   
 

He was smitten. Bitten by the love-bug. Shot by Cupid's arrow. And every other goddamn cliche pertaining to 'love at first sight'. But, he was a married man. Married to a woman. With a fucking _kid_ for fuck's sake. Shit! The good looking ones are always taken. Or straight. Shit. 

   
 

Shane took Rick under his wing nevertheless. He might not ever get to hook up with this hot motherfucker, but that didn't mean the two of them couldn't become good friends. Hell, if anything he would still be close to the man. Rick enjoyed his company. They quickly became inseparable. Hanging out after work. Dinner with the family on a regular basis. Carl liked him. Lori tolerated him. About as much as she did Rick. Before they knew it, six months had flown by. Then two years. Five years turned into eight. Shane was one of the family.   
   
 

Then, one night, it happened. Rick and Shane got a little too much booze in them after a family cookout. Lori and Carl had already called it a night. Leaving Rick and Shane to themselves in the backyard. The guys were discussing everything from work to sports. Their back and forth banter ended with a few playful pushes. Push turned to shove. Eventually, the two best friends ended up rolling around on the ground together in an honest to God wrestling match. The next thing Rick knew, a pair of hot, wet lips were crushing against his own in a hungry, needy kiss. Shane had his arms wrapped around his best friend. Hands roaming and exploring Rick's lean and muscular body. They pulled apart, out of breath and shaking. Rick looked shocked and utterly embarrassed. Shane immediately began to apologize. 

   
 

"Fuck, man! I'm sorry. I'm drunker than a shithouse rat, man. Don't hate me. Please!"    
   
 

Rick told him it was okay. They chalked it up to the alcohol. Told him he was in no shape to drive home and took him inside to sleep it off on the sofa. 

 

Rick made his way up the stairs and crawled in the bed beside Lori. _What the hell just_ _happened?_  He thought to himself. _What the fuck was that?_ He knew Shane was gay. He never hid the fact. That's not what confused him. What had him staring at the ceiling at twenty minutes 'till 2 in the goddamn morning was, the fact that he _liked_ what happened out there in his backyard. He liked it a _whole fucking lot._ Found himself feeling guilty for getting so aroused. He was mentally fighting himself from going down those stairs and throwing himself on Shane. Pictured himself fucking the shit out of him. _Am I_ _gay?_ He kept repeating in his head over and over again. When he woke up and finally forced himself to face Shane in the morning, he was already gone. They never spoke of the incident again. Leaving Rick even more confused. 

   
 

***

   
   
   
 

The next 12 months in the Grimes’ household was nothing short of a whirlwind. They had gotten pregnant and he finally got the little girl he’d always wanted. Carl had found his rebellious teenager side and was experimenting in pushing every damn last one of Rick’s buttons. And Lori, well she decided to drop the mother of all motherfucking bombs on him. She had met someone online and she, in a very unapologetic manner, let him know that she had every intention to leave him and go be with this man. In _fucking California!_  

  
 

“You are out of your goddamned mind if you think for one second you can take my kids from me and move clear across the country!” he hissed, trying his best not to wake his baby daughter he held sleeping in his arms. 

   
 

And apparently she had no such intentions of doing that. She left him high and dry with a teenager and a newborn and hightailed her ass to California.  

   
 

After seeing his best friend struggle and basically turn into a zombie while trying to juggle everything himself, Shane offered to move in and help him out. They pretty much turned into the sitcom, _My Two Dads_. Except for the fact that they found themselves highly attracted to one another. Well, Shane was highly attracted. Rick was horny.

 

Things worked so smoothly between them and the kids though, they decided to get married. Yes, things were happening pretty fast. But Rick, Rick was scared. He wanted a safety net for his kids in case something happened to _him_. He couldn’t stand the thought of leaving them behind the way Lori did. If something happened to him, at least they would have Shane. 

   
 

It was only after a couple months of being married that Rick started to notice changes in Shane. He was controlling. Telling Rick how to dress. He wasn’t allowed to go out _without_ Shane. If they went out together, he was accused of flirting and trying to hook up with everyone that made eye contact with him. Those nights almost always ended up with Shane threatening to bash someone’s fucking skull in.  

   
   
   
 

***

   
   
 

On their 10th monthiversary (yeah, Rick was sappy like that) they had gone out to a club. Rick was waiting at the bar for their drinks. He could feel Shane’s _yes-I’m-watching-you_ stare on him when one of Rick’s favorite Prince songs started to play. On impulse, he started moving his legs and hips to “Raspberry Beret”. Shane watched, rage taking over his entire being as a tall, muscular man approached his husband. He eyed Rick’s pert little backside before facing him.

   
 

“Well hey there, Baby Blues. Care to dance?” the dark-haired man asked as the bartender handed Rick their drinks. 

   
 

“No thank you,” Rick offered with a smile. “I’m here with my husband.” He jutted his chin out towards Shane. 

   
 

“Oh, I’m sorry. You were just so damn pretty, I had to try. Can’t blame a guy for trying, right?” he said with a wink, holding his hands up in defeat. Rick walked past him, feeling the other man's eyes on him, and headed towards Shane with a lump in his throat. He saw it. Saw the whole damn thing. He knew Shane was going to give him shit for what he had absolutely no control over.  

   
 

He could already see the vein bulging out on Shane’s temple. The white-knuckled grip his hands held on the edge of the table. Rick felt nothing but dread as he held Shane’s drink out to him with his best eye-crinkling smile. When he didn’t reach out and take it, Rick sat it down on the table. He was trying his damnedest to think of something to say. Anything. Before Shane brought up the inevitable. But he wasn’t fast enough.   
   
 

“M’ask you somethin’, Rick. What the _fucking fuck_ was _that_?” Shane hissed with spit flying in every direction. “I bring you out to celebrate _our_ special night and you decide to flirt with the first good lookin' guy you see? Wiggling your ass like a slut to get the attention of… of _that piece of shit? Really?_ Really, Rick? That’s how you thank me?” 

 

“But I didn’t— ” Rick tried to interject.  

   
 

“Save it. What you’re gonna do right now, is stand your slutty little ass up and walk the fuck out this club with me like everything’s peachy. You feel me? Move.” Shane was livid.  

   
 

He stood up and turned towards the exit. Praying that the fear he _knew_ covered his face wasn't visible to anyone else in the club. That the tears already forming behind his eyes wouldn’t fall until they got outside.    
   
 

“Shane. I promise you. Nothin’ happ— “ Rick’s breath hitched as he felt Shane’s arm come around his waist and his fingers dig deep into his side. “Please,” he begged in a shaky breath. 

   
 

“Leaving so soon, Baby Blues?” the dark-haired troublemaker asked with his hands clutching at his chest in dramatic fashion. “You’re breaking my heart, baby.”   
   
 

_Oh, God! Shut the fuck up!_ Rick screamed inside his head. _Please don’t say anything else! Please!_  

  
 

“I still want that dance, Baby Blues!” he continued as the couple walked out the door. 

   
   
   
  _Shit._  

   
 

If Shane wasn’t so preoccupied with teaching his husband his place, he would have gone back in and fucked that flirty, dark-haired strangers face up well beyond recognition. 

   
  

Shane’s fingers dug deeper. His dull fingernails felt more like feral claws. He pulled Rick in closer. So that his mouth was flush with the side of Rick’s face. 

   
 

“Ohhh. Just wait ‘til I get you home. You’re gonna be so fuckin’ sorry. Your ass gon’ learn today. Yes you are,” he whispered with a lethal dose of poison in his voice.     
   
 

Shane opened the passenger door and shoved Rick inside. He slammed the door so hard, Rick's body tensed as he waited for the glass to shatter.  

  
 

“Don’t you say one goddamned word to me,” Shane warned as he peeled out of the parking lot. Rick didn’t. He knew better. He simply stared at his lap and waited. 

   
 

He didn’t have to wait long for the first blow to land. Shane’s right fist connected hard with Rick’s upper chest. The second caught him in his collarbone. He was sure it was fractured. The third was aiming for the center of his face but landed on his jaw. 

   
   
 “Not my face, Shane. I have to work tomorrow,” he pleaded. He knew he shouldn’t have said anything. Tears and snot streaming down his face. His breathing was reduced to sobbing hiccups. 

   
   
 “Goddamn you, you piece of shit! You fuckin’ know better! You. Know. Better.” Each word was delivered with a sharp punch to Rick's ribs as Shane blew through red lights and stop signs.  

   
   
 “P-pl-please. That's e-enough,” Rick tried but no sound was coming out. He curled himself into a protective ball and clung to the door handle the rest of the way home, giving Shane access to his shoulders and shoulder blades. 

   
   
 “Sit the fuck up, you pussy! Wipe your fuckin’ face!” he ordered as they entered their neighborhood. “You’re a fuckin’ mess!” 

   
   
 He knew Maggie, their next door neighbor who was sitting with Judith for the night, would want to hear all about the festivities that went down at the club.  

   
   
 Rick sat up with a groan. His body was reeling and he hurt with every movement. He did his best using the palms of his hands as tissues. Wiping them on his jeans and  rubbing it into the dark fabric until the mucus and tears were barely visible. He sniffed and sniffled trying to clear his nose. It was useless as he had been crying too  hard. He pulled up his shirttail and blew his nose into the underside of it. He concentrated on his breathing to get control. He was damn near hyperventilating as they  pulled into their driveway.    

  
 

“It’s Reckoning day, sweetheart,” Shane said coldly as they opened the car doors to go inside. 

   
   
 He stopped long enough to empty his stomach on the grass beside of the driveway. All Rick could do was pray that little Judith was asleep... this time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got ahead with several chapters and thought I would go ahead and give you guys chapter 2. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for reading and all the positive feedback.

“Oh hey. Y’all are back kinda early, aren’t ya?” Maggie asked looking at the time on her cell.   
   
 

“Is Carl home yet?” Rick asked, ignoring Maggie’s question and avoiding eye contact. 

    
 

“Nope. Haven’t seen him,” Maggie replied, placing the baby monitor on the kitchen counter. “Rick? Are you… okay?” She thought his behaviour was odd as he was usually very interested in how Judith did while they were out. 

   
 

Rick said nothing else and locked himself into the downstairs bathroom. He dug through the clothes hamper and pulled out the dirty pajamas he had pulled off that morning.  

    
 

“Is he okay? He seems a bit… off,” Maggie noted. 

   
 

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Shane answered, turning on his best fake smile. “He decided to go and get sick on me tonight before we even had our first drink. Some kind of stomach thing.” Shane acted out a vomiting action. “That’s real romantic, huh? And here I had plans to woo and seduce my hot little hubby tonight.” He huffed out a laugh and gave Maggie a slow wink.  

   
  

Maggie laughed as a deep red blush flushed over her cheeks. “You boys are too cute.” 

    
 

Rick undressed and observed the bruises already forming on his torso in the mirror. _Why did that fucking song have to play?_ He thought, already blaming himself. _I wasn’t even dancing. Was I? I was just feeling the music._ He checked his collarbone. God it hurt. _What if it’s broken?_ He knew going to the hospital was out of the question. He knew how that game worked. Too many other bruises to explain.  

“Okay,”  Maggie said on her way out. “Tell Rick I hope he feels better soon. Holler if you need anything.” 

   
 

He felt knots twisting in his stomach as he heard Shane say goodnight to Maggie and the front door click shut. He stood staring at his reflection in the mirror when several loud bangs on the bathroom door caused him to flinch and knock over the cup of toothbrushes sitting on the counter into the sink. 

   
 

“Clean up whatever fuckin’ mess you just made in there then get your goddamn neck out here and put it on the chopping block, boy! Don’t make me say it twice!” Shane roared outside the door. 

   
 

He got into his loose pajama bottoms and carefully stretched his t-shirt over his sore body. With a shaky sigh, he exited the bathroom and made his way to the kitchen where Shane was waiting, tapping his fingers on the island. He was glaring at Rick through angry, hooded eyes. 

   
 

 _God don’t let Carl come home early tonight. Let Judith sleep through whatever was about to happen._  

    
 

Rick suddenly had an idea. _Please let this work._     
   
 

“Let’s just go to bed, Shane.” Rick thought he could tempt him with sex and avoid another beating. He knew it was a long shot. But he was going to give it all he had. He walked over to where he was standing and settled behind him. Slinking his arms around him and dragging his hands up to Shane’s chest.  

   
 

“I can make you feel so good, baby,” he whispered into the back of Shane’s neck with a sultry growl. 

   
 

He winced at the pain of leaning his abused ribs into Shane’s backside. But he squeezed him tighter nonetheless. 

    
 

“Why?” Shane replied. “So’s you can close your eyes and pretend I’m your little boyfriend back at the club? Use my body while you think about him?”    
   
 

“I couldn’t even tell you what that guy looks like, Shane,” Rick said. “I don’t have eyes for anyone but you. And… and you’re right. I should have never danced like that in front of people. I’m sorry.” Rick was hoping that if he admitted he was at fault, Shane _might_ go easy on him.    
   
 

“Not yet you ain’t,” Shane said with a definite warning in his voice. “But I guarandamntee you’re fixin’ to be.” 

  
 

Rick heard the promise of pain in his voice loud and clear. His grip loosened from Shane’s body. He slowly backed away as Shane turned to face him.  

   
 

“Please. Don’t,” Rick begged, holding his hands up in defeat. “Don’t do this. You know I’d never— “ His words were cut short and his breath hitched as Shane grabbed him by the wrists. “Baby, please,” he tried one last time before Shane’s knee shot up and landed with brute force into the pit of Rick’s stomach.  

  
 

Rick immediately hit the ground and rolled a few feet away, desperately trying to get as much distance between him and Shane. His arms instinctively wrapped around his own body as he coughed and sputtered and struggled to find enough air in his lungs to get a breath. Shane was definitely not feeling merciful looking at the crumpled heap in the floor that was his husband. He bent down and yanked Rick up to his feet by his hair. Rick yelped and braced himself for another strike. And Shane delivered. He turned him around and began slamming his fist into the back of Rick’s head and neck while still holding him by the hair. He was relentless with his punches. Rick was seeing stars. He was also weeping like a child.  

  
 

“Sh… Sh…. Shane. Please,” he whimpered, ready to blackout.   

   
 

Shane moved down to Rick's back with his fist. Each blow knocking the air from his lungs. One savage blow hit his spine, sending shockwaves to the back of his head. He could taste bile in his throat.   
 

Shane’s grip in his hair tightened. Rick felt like his scalp was bleeding. When the fist connected over and over with his kidney, his vision went dark. Like he was looking down a long, narrow tunnel.    
   
 

His legs went limp underneath him, no longer able to support his weight. Shane’s grip on his hair was released as he fell to the ground.  

   
 

“Get your ass up and take what you got comin’ to you, you little bitch!” Shane hissed. “You brought this shit on yourself! This is all on you! What do you think of your little boyfriend now? You still wanna fuck him? Huh? Think he would look at your little pussy ass now? Huh?”  

   
   
 Shane stopped his assault as Judith’s cries came through on the baby monitor. Rick’s fatherly instincts kicked in and he struggled to crawled away. Determined to get to his baby daughter. Shane grabbed him by his ankles. Rick twisted and kicked with every ounce of energy he could conjure up. Shane lost his footing. He fell on top of Rick. Shane’s head connected with the back of Rick’s, causing his face and forehead to crash against the floor with tremendous force under all of Shane’s weight. He wasn’t moving. Shane panicked. _Is he dead?_  

   
   
 “Rick?” Shane was trying to shake him awake. “Rick!” He looked towards the baby monitor. Judith was wailing by now. Shane got up on his hands and knees. He crawled to where Rick’s head was laying. Body still motionless. “Rick.”  

   
   
 He lifted Rick’s head by his hair just enough to see his face. There was a pool and several smaller puddles of blood under him. He had a nasty gash above his right eyebrow. The blood was flowing freely in a steady stream of large, relentless drops. He was bleeding from his nose and mouth.  Shane got to his feet. He paced back and forth near Rick’s unmoving body. He looked at his watch. Carl would be home soon. Not knowing what else _to_ do, he grabbed his keys and got the hell out of the house, leaving Judith upstairs and her ear-piercing screams to fall on the deaf ears of her unconscious father. 

   
   
 20 minutes later, Carl arrived home. “Dad! I’m home!” He could hear Judith screaming on the monitor. “Shane! Maggie! Anybody?” 

   
 

His father was still lying in the kitchen floor, face-down in pools of his own congealing blood. Still unconcious. Carl didn’t see him. He went upstairs, thinking someone would be with his crying sister. He went into Judith’s room first. Found nothing but the tiny girl, standing with her red, tear-soaked face, shrieking uncontrollably in her crib. He picked her up and immediately began consoling her. 

   
 

“Shhhh. It’s okay. It’s okay, Judy. Let’s go find dad.” He kissed the top of her head.   

   
 

Carl started checking the other bedrooms looking for his father. For Shane. _Where is Maggie? She’s got to be here if dad and Shane are out._ He took his cell phone out and sent Maggie a text.    
   
 

 **Carl:** **i** **thought you were sitting with** **judith** **tonight**  

   
 

 **Maggie: I did. Your dad got sick and they came home early.**  

   
 

 **Carl: they’re not here**  

   
 

 **Maggie: What?**  

   
 

 **Carl:** **i** **can’t find dad or** **shane**  

   
 

 **Carl:** **judith** **was screaming in her crib when I got home the house is empty**  

   
 

 **Maggie: I was there not more than a half hour ago. They were both there. Maybe they’re sleeping.**  

   
 

 **Carl:** **i’m** **standing in their room right now bed is still made this is weird they wouldn’t just leave** **judy**  

   
 

 **Maggie: Stay put Carl. I’ll be there in a couple minutes.**  

   
 

Carl headed back downstairs after finding no traces of his family. Judith was still trying to get her breath from crying so hard for so long. He looked in the garage. Checked the laundry room. Bathroom was empty. But he spotted Rick’s clothes that he had discarded on top of the hamper. He remembered seeing him in the very same shirt and jeans before he headed out to meet his friends earlier that evening. His shoes were abandoned in the floor by the door and his cell phone and wallet was laying on the counter. 

   
   
   
 “Dad!” Carl called out, sounding a little more than panicked. He walked towards the kitchen. And that’s when he saw it. A pair of sock-clad feet in the floor, sticking out behind the island. 

   
 

“Oh my God!” he said putting Judith down in the floor. She protested immediately with loud, piercing screams.   
   
 

Maggie burst through the front door upon hearing Judith screaming.  

 

“Carl?”    
   
 

“I found dad! In the floor here. He’s unconscious, Maggie!” Carl was on the verge of tears. 

   
 

Maggie ran around the island. “Jesus!” She screamed, before her hand slapped across her mouth. She knelt down in the floor beside Rick, carefully placing two fingers on his neck. “He’s got a pulse, Carl. He’s alive.” 

   
 

Carl picked his sister up. Comforting her and using her to comfort himself.   
   
 

Maggie’s hands hovered over Rick before she decided to roll him over onto his back. She was horrified at the sight of his face. “Oh my God, Rick,” she whispered. “What happened to you, baby?” 

    
 

Rick groaned and his eyes fluttered. Without warning, he started throwing up. Maggie grabbed him by his clothes and jerked him over to his side to prevent him from choking on his own vomit.  

   
 

“Oh dear God.” Maggie noticed his bruised ribs and stomach after exposing his skin from pulling his shirt to turn him. She leaned over and observed his back.  

  
 

“Oh, Rick,” She said, blinking through tears. “What in God's name happened to you?” 

   
   
“Carl,” Maggie said, giving him a look of utter fear. “Take your sister outside now and call 911."


	3. Chapter 3

Negan had arrived for his shift at Grady EMS a few minutes early on Friday evening. He _liked_ his job, but the work itself was draining and depressing. To be one-hundred percent honest, it was downright gruesome. Call after call of children with injuries. Car crash victims and fatalities. Gunshot wounds and stabbings. Countless drug overdoses. He longed for something pleasant in his life. Something beautiful.  

   
   
He got along perfectly with the people he worked with. But everyone else in the world seemed to label him as a loudmouth, egotistical asshole. Not that he would deny that fact. Hell, he _knew_ he was an asshole. But in _his_ mind, that was half his charm. He was impulsive. Unpredictable. _And_ charismatic, even if he did say so himself. He might not _enjoy_ his job, per se, but he’d be lying his ass off if he said he didn’t have _some_ fun doing it. But, truth be told, no matter how much goofing off he did or how much he complained about his job, it was probably one of the only things in his life that he actually took seriously. Well, _that_ , and whenever he happened to meet a beautiful man that piqued his interests. Negan fancied the pretty boys. Shit. He _was_ one of the pretty boys. 

   
   
He was shooting the shit with a couple co-workers when the call came through about a man found in his home, unconscious with multiple injuries.  

   
   
   
"That’s it, boys and squirrels! Showtime! Let’s light this motherfucking candle!” Negan’s voice boomed through the station. 

   
   
   
"Jesus, Negan. You have way too much fun with this shit,” Simon said, Negan’s co-worker and best friend. “Time to get serious.” 

   
   
   
They killed the siren and pulled into the driveway with lights still flashing. A firetruck and two police cars filed suit behind them.  

   
   
"Shit, guys. This is Grimes’ house,” Negan overheard one of the officers say. 

   
 

“Shane probably got shit-faced and fell down and broke his damn neck or somethin’,” Another officer replied. 

   
   
All jokes ceased when they observed their fellow officer, Rick Grimes, lying in a chaotic scene of blood and vomit on his kitchen floor. He was heaving and his body was jerking. Eyes opening and closing. His face was covered in blood.  

   
   
   
“Wh… Car… Ju… Ju... “ He was attempting to ask the whereabouts and safety of his children but the words weren’t forming. Maggie was holding his hand. She seemed to understand what he was asking. 

   
   
   
"The kids are fine, Rick. I called Carol. She’s got the baby. Carl’s right here, sweetheart. Everything’s gonna be fine. _You’re_ gonna be fine. They’re here to take care of you now.” 

   
   
   
Maggie went over to where Carl was standing. They embraced each other tightly. Carl buried his face into Maggie’s shirt. 

   
   
   
Negan and Simon went to work on Rick. Negan attempted to brush a stray curl out of Rick’s eye. It was matted to his his skin with drying blood. “Hey,” he whispered, peeling the plastered hair away. “Do you know what happened to you? I’m gonna need you to open your eyes and stay with me here.”  

   
   
He held his hand and patted the back of it. “What’s your name? Do you know where you are right now?” 

   
   
"His name is Rick. Rick Grimes. He’s one of ours.” A burly, ginger-haired officer said. His name badge said _A. Ford._  

   
   
His partner, name tag read _S. Williams_ , nodded in agreement and wiped a tear away from her eye. 

   
   
   
"Rick,” His voice was soft and concerned. “Can you open your eyes and look at me?” Rick’s eyes fluttered open and he managed to hold them on Negan long enough for him to shine a penlight in them. “There you are, Blue Eyes. Try and stay with me, okay?” 

   
   
   
“Does anyone know what happened to this man?” Simon asked. 

   
   
“No,” Maggie replied. “His son came home and found him unconscious. I was here earlier, sitting for his little girl. But he and his husband Shane came home early. Said Rick had gotten sick. Haven’t seen Shane since. They were here together. Less than an hour later, Carl texts me and everything went to hell.” 

   
   
 “Had he been drinking?” Negan asked. 

   
   
“Shane said Rick got sick before they had their first drink,” Maggie said. “Said he had a stomach thing.” 

   
   
“Rick,” Negan said. “Did you fall and hit your head?”  

   
   
   
Maggie spoke up. “I don’t know if he fell and hit his head or not, but when I lifted his shirt earlier, his chest and stomach was covered in bruises. His whole back is covered, too. That couldn’t have happened from falling on his face.” 

   
   
Negan lifted his shirt. Carl gasped at the sight. “Oh my God, Dad.” He turned and cried into Maggie’s shoulder. 

   
   
"Shit,” Negan growled. “This man’s been beaten. Let’s get him on the backboard. I’m about ninety-nine percent certain that he’s got a concussion.” 

   
   
Rick could only respond with guttural moans and groans as Negan and Simon got the cervical collar on him. Negan looked at his face as it contorted with a grimace of pain.  

   
   
 “I know it hurts, Rick,” Negan said trying to reassure him. “I’m sorry. But this is for _your_ safety. We don’t want you gettin’ jostled up anymore than you already are in the back of that ambulance. Those things sure as shit don’t provide a smooth ride.” 

   
   
Negan pulled Rick towards him, keeping him as stable as possible, while Simon slid the backboard in place. Rick cried out in pain as Negan and Simon rolled his battered body onto the board, fastening the strap across his head and working their way down until he was secure.  

   
   
 “One, two, three.” They lifted him up and placed him on the stretcher. Simon doubled two blankets and placed them over him. “Let’s go.” 

   
   
Negan struggled to hide his own emotions as he watched the tears rolling from the edges of Rick’s eyes. 

   
   
He stopped and looked at Carl on the way out. “Hey, kid. Come on and go with us. You can ride with your dad. Give him some kind of peace of mind.” 

   
   
Maggie nodded. “Yes. I'll be there as soon as Glenn gets home. I already texted him and told him to get here as fast as he could.” She hugged the boy and tried to reassure him that Rick would be okay.  

   
   
 “Your dad's in good hands, Carl,” Maggie said as she patted Negan's back and looked towards Simon. “They're gonna take good care of him. He's gonna be just fine.” 

   
   
Carl nodded and followed the stretcher out the door. He looked up and noticed that the population of the entire neighborhood was outside. Half stood on their own lawns, while the other half had all congregated towards the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles.  

   
   
  _Like moths to a porch light._  

   
   
 He saw Carol standing outside with Judith.  

   
   
 “I'll be right back,” Carl told Negan before running over to where she was.  

   
   
 “I'm going to the hospital with Dad,” he said before placing a tender kiss to the top of his sister's head.  

   
 

"He looks really bad, Carol.” He was choking back tears. “The paramedic said he was beaten and that he's probably got a concussion.” 

   
   
 He looked back towards his house.  

   
   
 “If you need anything for Judith, go get it now while Maggie and the police are still in there. We don't know who did this exactly, but Shane is MIA.” 

   
   
Carol looked up at Carl with wide eyes. “You think Shane… you think he did that? He wouldn’t… Shane _couldn’t…_ ” She looked into Carl’s eyes in disbelief. 

   
   
“He's not the person everyone thinks he is,” Carl replied. “I gotta go.” 

   
   
He turned around as he was running back towards the ambulance. “Can you lock up the house later?” 

   
   
Carol waved in agreement as Carl climbed in the back of the ambulance. She was thinking back about what he’d just said to her. 

   
   
 _Not the person everyone thinks he is?_  

   
   
_Has this happened before?_  

   
   
Her mind was racing. 

   
   
 She reflected on all the times she had seen Rick limping around.  

   
   
_He’s a police officer._  

   
It _goes with the territory._  

   
   
Her mind went back to all the times the neighborhood would get together. Dinner parties. Holiday gatherings. Cookouts. When Shane would escort Rick home by the arm and Rick wouldn’t speak for himself. Just looked at the ground.  

   
 _“_ He’s not feeling well _.”_ Shane would always say. 

   
   
Then Rick wouldn’t be seen for two or three days at a time. Not even to leave for work.  

   
   
   
Carol silently cursed herself for not putting two and two together. She, herself, was a survivor of domestic abuse. Why hadn’t she noticed? 

   
   
   
*** 

   
   
  
 

Rick couldn’t suppress his cries of pain as the stretcher was wheeled out of the back of the ambulance. 

   
   
“I’m sorry, Blue Eyes,” Negan said with an understanding smile. “These damn things are pretty fuckin’ unforgivable. I’d carry you in my arms if I thought it would hurt you less.” 

   
   
Rick’s eyes connected with Negan’s. Even _if_ it was _only_ for a handful of seconds, Negan could have sworn he detected a tiny glimmer of trust in those endless pools of blue.  

   
_Wishful thinking?_  

   
 

Rick’s anxiety level shot up as soon he was wheeled into the emergency room. All of the commotion. All of the different blue-gloved hands on him at once. Being hooked up to this machine and then that one. Someone's hand pressing something soft against a sharp pain on his forehead. So many questions when he could barely form a two or three worded sentence.  

   
   
  _I don’t want to be here._  

   
  _I don't know what happened._  

   
  _I’m scared._  

   
  _It hurts. Everything hurts._  

   
  _Stop touching me._  

   
   
He was screaming internally. Desperately trying to get the words to come out of his mouth.  

   
   
His wet, vomit and blood covered shirt was being cut off of him. He was shivering from the exposure. Teeth chattering and muscles tensing and fluttering. He was stripped of all his clothing but for his blue boxers. He could hear Carl talking to one of the doctors. People were running in and out of the room. One of the men that brought him in was still standing by his side. The other had moved over and joined in on the conversation that was going on between Carl and the doctor.  

   
   
 

 _What are they saying?_  

   
  _Who are they talking about?_  

   
  _What?_  

   
 

He swears he heard one of them mention Shane.  

   
 

 _Oh, God._  

   
_They’re gonna make it harder on me._  

   
_Leave it alone._  

   
   
 

Abe and Sasha are with the doctor now. They’re in uniform. This isn’t a social call. They’re all talking and throwing occasional glances over at Rick.  

   
   
His heart starts pounding when they all walk over to his bed at once. The doctor starts his interrogation first.  

   
   
“Mr. Grimes? I'd like for you to tell me how you ended up with all of these injuries.” 

   
   
 

 _Why is my head hurting so bad?_  

   
   
 

“I don’t… I can’t… I can’t re… ” He damn well _does_ remember. But he also remembers the promise Shane made to him if he ever said anything to anyone.  

   
   
“Rick,” Abe said, leaning over his bed. “Where was Shane when this happened?” 

   
   
 Rick shifted his eyes away and said nothing. 

   
   
 Negan sighed. “Your babysitter said you were the only two there in the house besides your little girl.” 

   
   
Rick wondered why the nosy paramedic was still standing beside him with his hand on his forehead. He had no knowledge of the gaping wound above his eyebrow that Negan was applying pressure to. He knew his head was hurting like a motherfucker. His face, too. But he didn’t know why. Shane only ever hit him in the face once or twice. Too obvious. 

   
   
“Let’s question him later, shall we?” The ER doctor said. “We need to get some tests ordered, get him down to X-ray and stitch up that head wound. I want urine _and_ blood from this man. I want a blood alcohol level and see what else he might be under the influence of.” 

   
   
  _Head wound?_  

   
   
“Mirror,” Rick managed to grunt out. “Mirror.” 

   
   
Negan removed to gauze pad he was holding against the gash. With no mirror in sight, he whipped out his phone and took a picture of Rick’s face. He observed the image and gave it a satisfactory nod before turning the phone around to show Rick.  

   
   
“Ohhh ho,” Rick cried in shock. His chin was quivering and tears were forming, threatening to spill over the edges.  

   
   
He studied his bloodied and beaten face feeling revulsion, anger and shame. If he had anything left in his stomach, it would have evicted itself right there all over Negan’s phone. A split, fat lip. Dried blood around both nostrils and surrounding areas. A bruised, puffy cheek. His right, lower eyelid was swollen and colored with a mingling of reds and purples. And that cut above his eyebrow. Shit. It had to be at least three inches wide. He didn’t remember any of this happening. The last thing he _did_ remember was hearing Judith cry and him being desperate to get to her. 

   
   
Negan leaned over the bed. “That jog your memory, Rick? Remember who fuckin’ beat the shit out of you _now_?” 

   
   
Rick’s tears were spilling now and pooling into his ears. His fragile voice was nothing more than a hoarse whisper. Whether he meant to say it or not, the entire room heard it. 

   
“Shane.”


	4. Chapter 4

Rick was sleeping in his new room, thanks to a heavy dose of painkillers, when the doctor came in with his test results. 

 

Simon had left. Abe and Sasha had gone out to look for Shane. Negan was still hanging around, although no one knew why. Glenn and Maggie were there. Carl was sitting in the floor with his back against the wall looking stressed and exhausted. 

 

All eyes were on the doctor as he opened his mouth to speak.   
  


“Well, we’re looking at a couple of broken ribs, a fractured clavicle, and a small amount of blood in his urine. Judging by the bruises around his kidney area,” he motioned toward his flank with his hands, “I'm not at all surprised. But those 16 stitches in his head are  _ nothing _ compared to the concussion he sustained. That explains the vomiting you mentioned before, the uneven pupils and the speech problem when he first got here. Other than that, he’s banged up, covered in bruises and, I'm sure, sore beyond belief. I'd say he's pretty lucky.”

 

Negan sighed while rolling his eyes behind his eyelids. The words spilled out of his mouth angrily.

 

“Lucky?  _ Are you kidding me?” _ He looked over at Rick and pointed. The man was obviously still suffering despite being asleep and pumped full of drugs. It was written all over his tensed and unsettled face. “That's not exactly my fuckin’ idea of lucky right there,  _ Doc _ .”

 

The doctor looked Negan directly in the eye. “He’s alive isn’t he? You of all people should know and understand how many people are not _that_ _lucky_ in situations like this.”  
  


Negan dropped his head. He  _ did _ know. 

 

“We’ll need to keep him here overnight for observation.” The doctor said before leaving the room. 

 

Maggie and Glenn told Carl they were going to head on home. Negan looked over at Carl. 

 

“How ‘bout you take him with you? He's drained and needs to rest.”

 

“I'm not leaving my dad,” Carl protested. “He can't be alone. What if Shane— ”   
  


“He won't be alone, kid,” Negan argued. “I'll sit here with him.”   
  


Carl looked at him with narrow eyes. “Don't you have a job you're supposed to be doing? And you don't even know my dad.”   
  


“They know where I am,” Negan answered. “I'm getting paid to sit here on my ass and listen to your dad snore. As for  _ knowing _ your dad, no, you're right. I  _ don't _ know him personally. But I knew someone in his situation. Someone that I loved very much. Makes me feel a strong connection to ol’ Blue Eyes here. Besides, he pretty as all fuckin' hell.”   
  


Maggie and Glenn looked at each other and tried not to laugh. Carl rolled his eyes.   
  


“Anyway,” Negan continued, “there's nobody waitin’ for me at home except my Lucille. I think she'll understand.”   
  


“That your wife?” Glenn asked.    
  


“My cat, actually,” Negan laughed. “And she is one mean ass pussy, believe you me. She’s got those automatic food and water dispensers. She’s my spoiled girl. Got the blackest fur and green eyes that— “

 

“Okay,” Carl blurted out before Negan pulled his phone out to show pictures of his goddamned cat. And he was totally getting ready to do just that. “I'll go if you're sure you don't mind.”   
  


“I'm sure, kid,” Negan said, flashing his perfect pearly whites. 

 

“And be sure he gets fed, okay?” Negan knew  _ that _ sounded a little too motherly.   
  


“We will,” Glenn replied.    
  


“One more thing… “ 

 

Carl rolled his eyes.  _ This guy must love to hear himself talk.  _   
  


“It would probably be a good idea to keep him with _you_ _guys_ tonight. You know? Just in case. Probably not a good idea for him to be alone in that house with that piece of shit on the loose out there.”  
  


That left Carl feeling remorseful. He was actually concerned about him. 

 

Negan pulled his phone out.    
  


_ Oh no. Here come the cat pictures.  _

 

_ “ _ Gimme your number, Carl,” He said. “In case any news comes up that I think I need to pass along to you guys.”   
  


Carl walked over and took the phone out of his hand.    
  


“Okay… ” Negan couldn't find words. “Yeah.... I just meant… “

 

“There,” Carl said, putting the phone back in Negan's hands before he could argue.    
  


He walked over and touched the back of his father's hand, holding it there as he spoke.    
  


“I'll be back tomorrow, dad,” he whispered. “Love you.”   
  


“G’night, guys,” Negan said quietly as they exited the room.    
  


The room became mind-numbingly quiet as soon as the door clicked shut. Negan walked over to the window and stared out for a few minutes. Watching as the lights went out and others came on in the different hospital room windows. When he was bored with that, he went into the bathroom and examined every aspect of it. Turning the water on in the sink, testing the hot water before turning it back to cold. Pulled back the shower curtain. Unimpressed, he closed it again. He looked in the mirror and fiddled with his hair a little bit before switching the light off and heading back out.    
  


There was a small tub and pitcher with straws and cups on Rick's tray when he came out of the bathroom. The nurse must have brought it in while Negan was doing his inspection.    
  


The tub contained a few toiletries. Mini shampoo, mouthwash and toothpaste. A new toothbrush. And a tiny bar of soap. Negan collected them all in his hands and set everything up in the bathroom for Rick. 

 

There was another nurse putting fresh blankets and sheets in the cabinet when Negan came out of the bathroom for the second time.    
  


“Hey,” The nurse jumped, obviously startled. “Sorry. Can you do something for me?”   
  


The nurse shot him an odd look. “Maybe… ?”

 

“Fanfuckingtastic! Sit with him while I run out here and find me some food.”   
  


“I'm sure he'll be fine sir— “   
  


“No. You don't understand. There's this guy… “ He sighed. “Look. Just don't leave. I'll be back before you can say antidisestab… fuck I can't even say  _ that _ . I'll be back.”   
  


He flew out the door before the lady could say anything else. He ran to a lounge area at the end of the hallway. Vending machines galore.

  
  


_ Hot diggity dog!  _

  
  


He was back in the room in less than ten minutes, carrying an ungodly amount of sweet and salty snacks.    
  


“I appreciate that darlin’,” he said, flashing her that killer smile and his signature slow wink as she walked out.    
  


He started opening cabinets to find some place to stash his snack hoard. He noticed a phone lying on top of Rick's pajama bottoms and dirty socks. Carl had slid it into his dad’s pajama pockets before they wheeled him out of the house. He looked over at Rick. He was still sound asleep. He hesitated a moment before reaching in and snatching the phone.    
  


He walked over, with a bag of Cheetos in hand, and sat down in the recliner next to the bed, giving Rick another quick look before turning the phone on. A shred of guilt washed over him while he waited for the device to power on.    
  


“Shit goddamn motherfucking motherfucker,” he cursed under his breath as it powered on with the loudest noise he'd ever heard a cell phone make.   
  


He shoved it between his legs to muffle the sound. He waited, with his heart pounding in his chest, for Rick to wake up. He didn't stir.    
  


 

_ Must be some kick-ass drugs they gave him. Shit.  _   
  


 

When his mini heart attack subsided, he pulled the phone back out and pulled up Rick's gallery.    
  


The first picture he sees is of Carl and a pretty little baby girl, of which he assumes is little Judith.    
  


He swipes through another dozen or so pictures of his kids. He stops when he comes across a picture of a man. Face scrunched up like he was pissed at the world. 

  
  


_ That's gotta be him.  _

 

Dark hair. Dark eyes. Dark scruff. Negan was hoping that this was Rick's “type”. 

  
  


_ I am so his type. _   
  


He swiped again. 

 

_ Ho-ly shit! _   
  


It was Rick. Not bruised. Not bloodied. Not beaten all to hell. Damn he was beautiful. 

 

_ You don't know me. _ _   
_ _ I don't know you. _

_ But I want to. _   
  


Negan's heart melted. Rick was looking right at the lense. A blue storm burning a hole through his very soul. His head was tilted to the side. He was smiling. That smile was  _ everything _ . Genuinely sweet with just a hint of shyness. Negan found himself smiling back at the picture.    
  


He hit the share button and sent the picture to himself in a text. He  _ had _ to.    
  


He swiped again. Okay. Just like that, the good feeling was gone. He was looking down at a picture of Rick. There was no heart-melting smile in this one. As a matter of fact, you could literally  _ see _ the unhappiness. There was an arm around his neck. Shane's arm. It wasn’t a loving-arm-around-the-neck pose either. It was a hold of ownership. Negan wanted to puke. 

 

He swiped through dozens and dozens of pictures, sending every smiling and happy Rick picture to his own phone. He rolled his eyes and scoffed at all of the Shane and unhappy-Rick selfies, until he came across one of the couple in bed. Negan assumed that it was from earlier in their relationship. It had a honeymoon phase look to it. They were surrounded in soft white sheets and both their heads rested on the same white pillow. Shane was asleep. And Rick had his wet, pink lips pressed lovingly to Shane's stubbly cheek with his eyes siding right into the camera.    
  
  


Negan felt nothing but jealousy and rage. As if that picture was planted on that phone to cause him actual physical and emotional pain. 

 

Shane did not deserve this man. Rick deserved better. Rick deserved the best. He couldn't stomach anymore. He hit the home button.    
  


His thumb was hovering over Rick's text message icon as he chewed his bottom lip. He'd already invaded his privacy by snooping through his pictures. How much more of an asshole could it possibly make him if he read a couple texts? 

  
  


_ Tap. _

  
  


He froze when Rick’s snoring got louder momentarily and he released a long, slow deep breath. His head rolled to the other direction and he shifted his legs. He watched him and waited. Almost certain he was waking up and would catch him going through his phone. But he eventually settled and went back to his drug-induced sleep. Returning to the soft, even-spaced snores Negan had listened to all night.    
  


Negan noticed, glancing toward the window, that the blackness of the sky was slowly softening into a dark blue. God he'd  _ kill _ for a cup of coffee right now. But he just yawned and turned his attention back to the stolen phone in his hand.    
  


Rick only had three recent text conversations. Shane, Carl and Maggie. Well, four, if he included the one that was created when he sent himself Rick’s pictures.

 

He read through Maggie's conversation first. It only consisted of talk about babysitting and him checking on Judith occasionally throughout the day. 

 

Next, he clicked on Carl. It was pretty much typical father/son shit. 

 

**Get home straight after school.**

**Clean your room.**

**Make sure your homework gets done before video games!**

**Pick up Judith from Maggie's.**

  
  


And all of Carl's replies were the same. 

 

**k**

  
  


Shane's messages proved to be a little more telling. 

 

He sucked the Cheetos powder from his orange fingertips as he read. 

  
  


**Shane: what r u doing**

**Shane: what ru doing**

**Shane: what the fuck r u doing goddammit**

**Rick: I’m sorry. I was using the bathroom.**

**Shane: take the fuckin phone with u next time**

**Shane: never make me wait like that again**

**Rick: I will. I won’t. I’m sorry.**

  
  


**Shane: where the fuck r u ur 10 min late!**

**Rick: I'm sorry! I'm stuck in traffic.**

**Shane: you know the fuckin rules rick**

**Shane: u should have fuckin called**

**Rick: My phone is on 2%**

**Shane: that's no excuse**

**Rick: I'm sorry. You're right.**

**Rick: I should have called.**

**Rick: I'm sorry, Shane. :)**

**Rick: ;)**

**Shane: stop that shit**

**Rick: I'm sorry.**

  
  


**Rick: Can you please grab milk for Judy on your way home?**

**Shane: no fuck u**

**Rick: Okay. Sorry.**

  
  


**Shane: stop bending over in those damn jeans**

**Rick: What?? I'm not.**

**Shane: i’m looking out the fuckin window**

**Shane: eugene is staring at ur ass**

**Rick: LOL**

**Shane: no!!!!**

**Rick: Okay. Sorry.**

  
  


_ Oh, I hate this asshole! _

  
  


**Shane: who the fuck is daryl**

**Shane: u have 2 emails from this guy!**

**Rick: You're reading my email?**

**Shane: who the hell is he**

**Rick: He was just a friend from high school.**

**Rick: I wasn’t going to email him back.**

**Rick: I promise.**

**Shane: u know what fuck u**

**Shane: it doesn't matter who he is**

**Shane: i’ll just deal with ur ass when u get home**

**Rick: I promise you I wasn’t going to email him back.**

**Shane: shut the fuck up**

**Shane: get ur ass home**

**Shane: now**

  
  


Negan was physically ill. He was pretty sure that this beating was not just a one-time thing. How many other times had Rick endured this kind of violence. He intended to find out.    
  


As Negan was putting Rick’s phone back in the cabinet on top of the haphazardly folded pants, the nurse came in with another shot of painkiller and anti-nausea medicine. She injected the first into Rick’s IV. Negan was going to take full advantage of the fact that there was someone else in the room with him. He was in desperate need of some caffeine.

  
“I’m gonna run down and grab some coffee while you’re here.”

 

“Okay.” She said, putting the second injection in.

 

Unbeknownst to Negan, she wasn’t planning on staying with Rick until he got back. She put the blanket back over his arm and took her leave. 

  
  
A moment later, the door reopened. Only the man stepping inside the room was  _ not _ a caffeine-toting Negan… it was Shane.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets pretty heavy, guys.

Rick was abruptly brought out of his drug-laden sleep by a heavy-handed slap across his mouth. The sounds of muffled, petrified screams filling the darkened room. Shane reached up and turned on the dim light behind Rick’s bed. His eyes went wide. He struggled for air. Sucking in what little bit he could through the edges of Shane’s grip.

 

Shane had shaved his head, rendering his appearance even more sinister than before. The shadows that were cast by the muted light made him look like the devil himself.

 

“I know you set the police on my ass, Rick,” Shane snarled. “You’re gonna call ‘em off, too. You’re gonna get me out of this, Rick. Or I _swear to God_ , the next time, you won’t be laying in a fuckin’ hospital bed. You’ll be laying in the morgue.”

Rick fought to speak under Shane’s calloused hand. Words that were only audible in his own head.

 

“I didn’t do this, Rick. You did.”

Shane took his free hand and pressed it hard and deep into the shoulder of the arm that was housed in a sling, causing Rick to roar in his throat.

 

“ _Follow the motherfucking rules._ That’s all you had to do. But what do you do? What do you _do_ after you received the punishment you knew you had coming? That you _knew_ you deserved. You blame me. _Me._ You cost me my job, Rick. I can’t fuckin’ go back there now. You cost me everything, you pathetic piece of shit.”

He was sobbing now. He wanted to fight. To kick. To bite his fucking hand. But he knew he was in no condition. Hell. When was he ever anymore? Shane took the fight out of him months ago. He _was_ pathetic. Just like Shane always told him he was.

“Now. You _are_ gonna fix this. If you don’t, well let’s just say I know where you got Judith hid. Sweet, little _innocent_ Judith.”

Rick shook his head violently, ignoring the fact that it felt like he was slamming his head into a concrete wall.

“Now I _know_ you don’t want anything happening to _our_ little girl. Right?”

Rick squeezed his wet eyes tight and nodded. Whimpers escaping through the edges of Shane’s rough hand.

“Now, I’m gonna move my hand. You’re gonna keep your fuckin’ mouth shut. You got me? Not a sound.”

Rick nodded again. Shane leaned closer to his mouth and brushed his lips against Rick’s. He kissed his split bottom lip before taking it between his teeth and biting down. Hard. Reopening it. Shane sucked on the cut until he had a mouthful of blood. He pulled back with a smug grin, then spit it in Rick’s face. He flipped the light out and righted himself, glaring at Rick. Wordlessly repeating his promised threats from moments before.

“I was never here,” Shane said, strutting out the door.

He wiped the spit and blood off his face with his blanket before throwing it off. Using his good arm and the bedrail, he managed to get to a sitting position. He ripped his IV out. Blood trailing down his hand. Every bone and muscle above his waist was raging up in a hellish torture. His head felt like he had been pummeled by a dozen linebackers. The room was spinning.

 

He swung his legs around and slid off the edge of the bed. Two shaky steps later, he found himself falling sideways. He was too drugged and too dizzy. He met the floor _hard_ with a thud and a grunt. Using his right arm and the tips of his toes, he was snailing his way toward the door.

“What the shit, Rick!” Negan threw his cup of coffee and made a dive for Rick.

“What the fuck are you doing in the goddamned floor? Shit!”

“Help me!” Rick plead, drenched in sweat.

 

“How? Fuckin’ _how_ do I help?” Negan held his hands out in dismay. “I don’t know where to fuckin’ grab you to pick you up.”

“I don’t give a fuck if it hurts!” Rick hissed. “Just get me up! I gotta get out of here!”

Negan laughed. “No. You gotta get your crazy ass back in that bed."

Rick huffed. “I’ll crawl.”

 

Negan turned for the door. “I’m going to get help. They can fuckin’ sedate you.”

“No!” Rick begged. “You can’t.”

 

“Watch me.”

Rick’s muscles were on fire. Overused.

 

“Shane was here,” he sobbed.

Negan assumed he had just had a nightmare. That Rick had dreamt Shane was there.

“He threatened Judith.” Rick’s voice was just above a whisper. “I have to get to her before he does.”

Negan saw the blood on Rick’s mouth. His blood ran cold. He went for his phone. “I’m calling the fucking police then.”

“You can’t! He… he wasn’t kidding about Judith. Trust me.” Rick’s tone was chill-inducing.

_My God. Was this bastard really that sadistic?_

Negan hooked his arm under Rick’s uninjured one and pulled him to his feet. He ignored the groans coming from the battered man and got him back to the edge of his bed.

“Which way did he go?” Negan asked with fury in voice. “I’ll catch up to this fucker and beat the shit out of him my goddamn self.”

“No,” Rick sighed. “I’ll call the station. I’ll tell them it was a misunderstanding. That I fell and hurt _myself_ . I’ll go home and everything goes back to normal. No one else needs to get hurt.”

“You are out of your goddamned mind, Rick!” Negan was fuming. Pacing the floor. “You go back to that, you might as well go on ahead and plan your own motherfuckin’ funeral. You know that. You _know_ I’m right.”

 

“It won’t be like that,” Rick argued. “He’ll see how bad he hurt me this time and he won’t take it that far anymore. He’ll be too afraid to.”

Negan growled. “Listen to yourself, Rick! You’re giving this asshole permission to beat your ass again as long as he doesn’t ‘ _take it this far_ ’ anymore? Are you fuckin’ serious right now?”

Rick was trying to figure this man out. What business was it of his?

 

“Why do you care so damn much anyway? Why does _any of this_ bother you so fuckin’ much? It shouldn’t concern you. You shouldn’t even be here. You don’t _know_ me. You don’t know _anything_ about me. You helped me. You brought me to the hospital. You did your job. I appreciate that. But that’s where it ends. I am not your tragedy. Go play hero somewhere else.”

 

Rick’s words cut through him like a knife.

“You’re wrong, Rick. I owe— ”

 

“You don’t owe me shit!” Rick hissed.

 

Negan balled his fists until his fingernails bit into his flesh. “No I guess I fuckin’ don’t, Rick! I don’t owe _you_ shit! But I _do_ owe somebody else! And that is one debt I fully fuckin’ intend on repaying. Even _if_ it’s through you.”

 

Rick’s puzzled expression told Negan to continue.

“I had a wife. Most beautiful goddamn woman I’d ever laid eyes on. I took one look at her and knew that she was all I would ever want out of life. She robbed me of my fuckin’ breath, Rick. We were married ten years! I thought we were okay. I was happy. I thought _we_ were happy. I mean, sure we had our knock-down drag-outs, but... there were a lot more good times than bad. I guess she… she met someone else that made her happier than I _could_ . She left me. Left me for her _own_ Shane. He beat her, Rick. Put her in the hospital at least once a month. She lied for him. Kept going back. Then one night, he ‘ _t_ _ook it that far’_. Only he didn’t stop until she was dead. Killed her. He fuckin’ killed my beautiful Lucille.”

 

Both men’s eyes were wet with unshed tears.

 

Rick cleared his throat. “Well… I’m… I’m sorry that happened to you. To… to your wife. But it doesn’t mean you have to get into the middle of _this_ . This isn’t your fight. I don’t even know your name.”

Negan knelt down at Rick’s feet and put his hand over Rick’s. “Oh I’m already in the middle of _this_ , Blue Eyes. I’m balls deep. Because I wanna be. Because I have to be. Let me help you. And my name is Negan.”

Rick was still confused. This man didn’t even know him before last night. Their paths would have probably never crossed if he hadn’t had his ass beaten so badly. He hesitated.

“Rick,” Negan whispered. “I know you don’t know me. You probably don’t trust me. Hell, I don’t blame you. After what you’ve been through, I wouldn’t trust anyone either. But I’m asking you… _begging_ _you…_ let me help you.”

 

Rick looked up into Negan’s eyes. Searching. Looking for something. He wasn’t sure what. “Can I ask you a question?”

 

“You can ask me anything, Blue Eyes,” Negan replied with a soft smile.

“Why me? Why do you want to help _me_ so badly?”

Negan’s expression became doleful. “Let me answer your question with a question. Why _not_ you? You’ve allowed yourself to be abused and beaten. Why not allow someone to _help_ you?”

 

Poor choice of words, Negan.

“Allow… I allowed myself?” Rick was outraged. “I didn't fuckin' ask for this! You think I enjoy this?” His voice was cracking. “Living my life in fear! Afraid to look at anyone! Talk to anyone! Not knowing when I'm gonna get the shit slapped out of me just because he fuckin’ _feels_ like it! This… ” Rick gestures to his face and upper body. “This was because some guy at a club asked me to dance. I said no. Never even considered it. Told the guy I was there with my husband. Never even looked at the man. Shane accused me of wanting to fuck him. I was punched the entire ride home. Then got the rest after the sitter left. I can’t even remember half of it.”

Negan wanted to apologize. “Rick, I— ”

“And this… ” Rick pointed to an older scar on his wrist. “I got this from being handcuffed to our bed for over 24 hours. Carl and Judith were with my brother’s family for the weekend. I was sick. Had strep throat. 104 degree fever. Shane wanted sex. I told him I didn’t feel like it. That was my punishment. Handcuffed to the bed. No food. No water. Had to lay there in my own piss until he decided to my punishment was over.”

 

Negan just listened.

Rick pointed to another scar. About an inch wide under his left eye. “This one happened in front of Carl. I forgot to tell Shane who was calling my phone one evening. I’m always supposed to tell him first. _I know that._ I screwed up. I answered it without thinking. It was just Maggie asking if I needed her the next day but he didn't know that. I was in the kitchen when I hung up. Carl was sitting at the bar doing homework. He body checked me from behind. I didn’t see it coming. I fell face-first into the edge of the cabinet.”

Negan found it hard to look him in the eye.

 

“When you get dragged up two flights of stairs by your hair and raped by your own spouse and told in the middle of it that he'll blow your baby daughter’s brains out in front of you if you fight. Then be forced to lay next to him all night while he holds you. Then I'll ask _you_ if you just _let_ _it_ _happen_.”

 

“Shit. Rick.” Negan was sick.

“I’m not allowing it, Negan. I just don’t know how to stop it. I don’t know how to get out.”  
  
Negan hooked a finger under Rick’s chin, gently lifting his face. “That’s where I come in, Blue Eyes. I just need you to let me. Let me help you.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Panic attack
> 
> Do yourself a favor and listen to "Blue Eyes" by Elton John when you read the lyrics in this chapter. I could literally hear Negan singing this.

Negan made several phone calls arranging for Simon to bring his car to the hospital with a change of clothes for Rick. He also managed to get some time off from work. He left Rick to shower as he ran down to get his clothes. 

 

Rick’s apprehension kicked in full force as the hot water and suds washed over his sore body. His heart was pounding. He found himself gasping for air.

  
  


_ Breathe, dumbass. _

  
  


His arms and legs trembled and tingled. His throat was tight and he had an aching heaviness in his chest. He had to remind himself that he wasn’t going to die. 

  
  


_ It’s not a heart attack, stupid. _

  
  


It was a panic attack. He’d been there before. Many, many times before. He had considered months ago getting help with his anxiety. But the thought of relying on a pill to get him through the day left a bad taste in his mouth. Made him feel weak. Weaker than he had already convinced himself he was. No. Weaker than  _ Shane _ had convinced him he was.

  
  


Negan’s voice came through the bathroom door following a few soft knocks. “I’m leaving your clothes on the bed, Rick.”

  
  


He carefully washed the blood out of his hair and beard, minding to not wet the stitches on his forehead, and stepped out of the shower. Using the corner of his towel, he wiped off enough steam to assess his damage. A move he instantly regretted. The bruises had deepened in color over his chest and ribs. He didn’t bother looking at his back. He could  _ feel _ how it looked. The skin around his stitches was swollen and bruised.

 

_ How in the hell did that happen anyway?  _ he thought, lightly dabbing around the area with his finger. 

  
  


“Ow,” he winced in pain, sucking air in between his teeth.

  
  


He rubbed the towel through his messy curls and wrapped it around his waist before exiting the bathroom.

  
  


“Hey.” Negan’s voice _and_ _presence_ caused Rick to jump. He wasn’t expecting him to be in the room after telling him he was _leaving his clothes on the bed_. He quickly tightened the grip on his towel as the unbruised skin on his face quickly flushed a bright pink.

  
  


Negan smiled at Rick’s shyness. “I had Simon check on your baby girl and Carl when he went to get your clothes. It should tickle your balls to know that they’re both fine and fuckin’ dandy.”

  
  


“Thank you,” Rick said still looking at the floor. “That… that does tickle— “ He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. Not with him standing there naked under his too-small towel.

  
  


Negan threw his head back in a raucous laugh. “Oh, Rick! You are fuckin’  _ adorable _ ! Get your ass over here and let me help get you into these clothes.” 

  
  


Rick’s eyes were as big as plates when he saw his bright red boxers dangling off the tip of Negan’s pinky finger.

  
  


“C’mon Rick. I’m not gonna look at you. You can’t get these on with one good arm.” Negan knew he probably could, but damn if he wasn’t gonna try.

  
  


“I think I can ma— ”

  
  


“Nope,” Negan stopped him. “Nope. Not gonna risk you falling down and hurting yourself worse. C’mon. I ain’t gonna bite you, Blue Eyes.”

  
  


Rick wasn’t used to arguing when given an order. And while Negan’s offer wasn’t really an order, he didn’t think it wise to put up a fight.

  
  


He walked over to Negan, who was seated in the recliner, feeling that familiar panic creep up again, ever so slightly.

“Undo your towel and hold it out in front of you like a wall,” Negan suggested.

  
  


Negan got a glimpse of a naked hip as Rick opened the towel and got it into position. He lifted a foot and lost his balance. Negan instinctively caught him by the wrist. 

  
  


“See?” Negan smirked. “Fuckin’ concussion.”

  
  


Rick balled up the towel and held it in front of his crotch with one hand. He put his right hand on Negan’s shoulder to keep his balance as he lifted he foot to put into a leg of his boxers. 

  
  


_ Blue eyes  _

_ Baby's got blue eyes _

 

Negan started singing as he helped him into the other leg. His thumbs brushed against his naked ass cheeks when he pulled his underwear up. Rick couldn’t help but fear Shane bursting through the door any moment. Negan unfolded his jeans and held them out for him to step into. 

 

_ Like a deep blue sea  _

_ On a blue blue day   _

_ Blue eyes  _

_ Baby's got blue eyes  _

_ When the morning comes  _

_ I'll be far away  _

_ And I say   _

_ Blue eyes holding back the tears  _

_ Holding back the pain  _

_ Baby's got blue eyes  _

_ And he's alone  _

_ Again   _

 

Negan’s fingers rested against Rick’s lower stomach to button and zip his jeans. He relished the feel of the coarse hair that lived there. His own stomach was doing flip-flops. He continued singing as he held his blue plaid button-up open for Rick to slide his injured arm in.

 

_ Blue eyes  _

_ Baby's got blue eyes  _

_ Like a clear blue sky  _

_ Watching over me   _

_ Blue eyes  _

_ Oooooooooh, I love blue eyes  _

 

Negan threw him a wink as he started buttoning the shirt. 

 

_ When I'm by his side _

_ Where I long to be  _

_ I will see   _

_ Blue eyes laughing in the sun  _

_ Laughing in the rain  _

_ Baby's got blue eyes  _

_ And I am home _

_ And I am home again   _

_ Blue eyes laughing in the sun  _

_ Laughing in the rain  _

_ Baby's got blue eyes  _

_ And I am home  _

_ Again _

 

“What’s the matter, Blue Eyes?” Negan asked, noticing the tears in Rick’s eyes.

 

Rick cleared his throat. “That song,” He sniffed. “Just… just made me emotional.” He wiped his eyes and nose with the back of his hand. “I’m pathetic. I’m sorry.”

 

“You’re not pathetic, Rick.” Negan picked up the sling and eased him arm in. “You’ve been through some fucked up shit. That doesn’t make you pathetic. Or weak. It makes you stronger. You’re still  _ here _ . That’s not the definition of pathetic.”

 

Rick sighed and nodded. “It was the ‘ _ holding back the tears, holding back the pain _ ’ part that got me. I have. You know? For a long time.”

 

“I know, Rick. I can see that. But you gotta focus on the ‘ _ laughing in the sun, laughing in the rain _ ’ part now.” Negan fastened the velcro strap of the sling and picked up a pair of clean socks. “Sit,” he said He knelt down in the floor in front of him and slid a sock on each foot followed by his boots. “Things are going to get better. I’m not gonna say they won’t get fuckin’ worse before that happens, but this is a start. You gotta fuckin’ end this shit.”

 

“I know.” Rick released a shaky breath. “I’m just scared.”

 

Negan playfully smacked the side of Rick’s leg before standing up. “Well don’t be. Let’s just eat the fuck outta these donuts that Simon brought us and drink this probably-not-hot-anymore-because-you-took-for-fuckin-ever-in-the-shower coffee while we’re waitin’ on your release papers and prescriptions.                                                                     

***

  
  


“Where are we going?” Rick asked, as Negan pulled the seatbelt around him and fastened it.

 

“We’re gonna get your ‘scripts filled first. Then we’re gonna go pick up your kiddos and pack up some shit from your house. After that, I’m dropping you three off at my house while I go get some groceries.”

 

“Wait.” Rick had a confused look on his face. “ _ Your _ house? I can’t just take my kids to your house. Just like that. We can’t intrude and disrupt your whole life. No. Just take me home and I’ll take the kids to a hotel or— ”

 

“Really?” Negan shifted his eyes back and forth between Rick and the road. “You don’t think Shane would think to check hotels? See your car sitting outside? Uh-uh. You’re going home with me. And you’re not intruding. I told you, I wanna fuckin’ help you.”

 

Rick released an exasperated sigh. “Okay. But I’m giving you some money. No matter where we’d be going, I’d still have to feed my kids.”

 

“Whatever you say, Blue Eyes,” Negan said smiling as they pulled into Walgreens.

 

***

 

“Amitriptyline?” Rick was pulling his bottles out of the pharmacy bag. “That’s an antidepressant.”

 

“It helps with PCS syndrome,” Negan explained. 

 

Rick stared at him cluelessly. 

 

Negan laughed. “Post-concussion syndrome. It’s to prevent headaches after a head injury. It’ll help you sleep, too. You should have some good ass painkillers in there. You’re gonna be in la-la land, Blue Eyes.”

 

Rick smiled. 

 

Negan noticed. Of course he noticed. That smile was  _ life _ . “What you fuckin’ grinning about?”

 

“Blue Eyes,” he answered. “I was just thinking about that song you were singing. I liked it.”

 

Negan huffed out a laugh. “But it made you  _ cry _ .”

 

“I liked the way you sang it.” Rick was turning pink again. “Were you… were you just singing it or… were you singing it to me?” He rolled his eyes, thinking how stupid he just sounded.

 

Negan looked over at Rick as he stopped for a red light. “That goddamn song has been stuck in my head ever since I saw those sapphires of yours, Rick. They’re fuckin’ mesmerizing. Fuck yeah I was singing it to you.”

 

“Know what else is mesmerizing?” Negan continued. “That sweet as a peach smile of yours. Something tells me you haven’t done that in a while.”

 

Rick’s smile widened, causing his eyes to crinkle. “Haven’t had a reason.”

 

***

  
  


Rick was eager to see his kids. He had his hand on the door handle before Negan pulled into his driveway. 

 

“Rick!” Negan had to catch him before he bailed. “No fuckin’ running! Your kids will be there even if you walk. I promise.”

 

They went to Maggie’s and Glenn’s first to get Carl. Maggie was shocked to see Rick standing outside her door. 

 

“Oh my God! Rick!” She threw her arms around him for a tight hug. He howled out in pain. “Oh shit! I’m sorry! I was just so happy to see that you were okay.”

 

“It’s okay.” Rick looked over her shoulder. “Is Carl here? We’ve come to get him.”

 

“He’s here,” Maggie replied. “Have they arrested Shane?”

 

Rick shrugged. “Not that I know of. We aren’t staying here at the house though, just in case. We’ll be staying with Negan. But don’t say anything to anyone.”

 

Carl was happy to see his dad. He honestly expected him to still be laid up in the hospital bed. “You’re really okay, Dad?”

 

He smiled at Carl. “I will be.”

 

They headed to Rick’s house after they picked up Judith. Carol made the same mistake as Maggie by grabbing Rick and squeezing him into a bear hug. He’d definitely be needing his pain meds soon. 

 

Negan carried Judith. She took a liking to him instantly. She belly-laughed every time he’d yell “Ouch!” after she smacked at his beard. That made Rick smile. It was a genuine smile. But that smile quickly vanished as they walked into his house and Rick made the turn around the kitchen island. 

 

“Carl,” Negan called. “Here. Take your sister upstairs and pack some clothes. Seven or eight outfits each. Don’t forget underwear, socks, diapers… hell just grab everything. Phone chargers and shit, too. Whatever you want.”

 

He watched them walk up the stairs. He turned to see Rick, still staring at the kitchen floor. The dried blood and vomit still there. “Rick? What are you thinking about?”

 

His breath hitched. “Is that… is that where— ”

 

“That’s it, Rick.” Negan touched his arm. “That’s where your husband left you. That’s where your son found you. That’s… that’s where I first met you.”

 

Rick resisted the urge to cry. “There’s just so much blood.” He sniveled and wiped his face with his sleeve. “I don’t wanna be here. Judy’s sippy cups are in the cabinet. Get them for me?”

 

Negan found a bag and put everything Judith-related into it. Cups. Baby dishes and utensils. Baby food and snacks. Bibs. He tied the bag up and put it by the door, then made his way upstairs to find Rick. He was in the bathroom shoving toothbrushes, toothpaste, deodorants and other toiletries roughly into a bag.

 

“Everything okay?” He looked at Rick through the mirror. “Can I help with anything?”

 

Rick opened the medicine cabinet and got Judith’s baby Tylenol and placed in a diaper bag. 

 

“I just…  I wasn’t expecting to see that. It made it seem  _ real _ when I saw it. Part of me in the floor. Like all of this really happened. He… he did that to me and just… he just left me?” 

 

His voice was so small and fragile. “ _ How? _ How could someone…  _ someone that’s supposed to love me _ ... hurt me so badly and just walk away?” 

 

He tried to hold back the cascades of tears, but he was powerless. Months and months of emotion that had been dammed up inside him, erupted with a massive flood. A deluge of anger, hurt and fear. There was no caring what he sounded like as he wailed. No caring what he looked like. He doubled over on the countertop and let it out. His sorrow echoing in the sink.

 

It was painful to watch. Negan wasn’t sure what to do. He was trying to remember where all of his bruises were so he wouldn’t hurt him if he were to embrace him. But Rick turned to him first. He put his head to Negan’s chest. Looking for comfort. He found it. Negan reached up and cupped the back of his head. Held him there until he was all cried out. Nothing left but sobbing spasms.

 

“Dad?” Carl called from the doorway.

 

Negan shook his head. “He’s alright, Carl. He’s okay. Everything’s just hit him all at fuckin’ once. We’ll be down soon.”

 

When Rick stepped back and wiped his nose, he noticed the mess he’d made of Negan’s uniform shirt. His first instinct was to apologize. He was  _ always _ saying “sorry” to Shane for some reason or another. But he didn’t. Not this time. “Thank you.”

 

Negan looked into those bloodshot, gloomy blues and simply nodded.

 

“Let’s go get your shit, Blue Eyes.”

 

***

 

Rick grabbed all of the clothes that Shane had forbade him to wear. Jeans that showed off his ass. And all of the shirts that clung to his body just right. He smiled, feeling a small amount of satisfaction. Negan stood in the doorway with his arms crossed. Just observing. He grabbed his gun and uniforms. His cologne off the dresser. Beard trimmer. He pulled a drawer open and grabbed an armload of socks and boxers and dumped them in the open suitcase on the bed. He went back and opened another drawer to retrieve five or six pair of pajama bottoms and just as many t-shirts. 

 

“You don’t look like a pajama wearer, Blue Eyes,” Negan said with an amused look on his face.

 

“I don’t sleep in ‘em,” Rick replied. “I just like to be comfy at home. I usually just sleep in my underwear.”

 

Negan nodded. “Me too.”

 

Rick looked around the room. Scanning for anything he might have forgotten.

 

“I guess that’s it,” he said with a heavy sigh. 

 

Negan grabbed the bags and suitcase and they walked downstairs. Carl was waiting by the door with Judith. Negan took the bags to his car and to get the baby’s car seat situated. Rick was the last one to leave the house. He turned before closing the door. He walked back to the kitchen. The violent reminder of last night still in the floor. When, not if Shane came back, he deserved to be reminded of it, too. 

  
He took a deep breath and flipped off whatever lingering memory of Shane that still remained in the house. His way of saying  _ fuck you _ to the past before closing the door.


	7. Chapter 7

Negan’s house was nothing like Rick had imagined it. Clean white walls and contemporary furniture. Hard edges and rich texture. Small but very comfortable. He and the kids sat in the living room, still as statues, while Negan went for a quick shower and change of clothes. Judith was whining and trying to free herself of Carl’s grip when he emerged. Barefoot with wet hair, dark jeans and a tight black t-shirt. He had a black leather jacket hooked on his finger and thrown over his shoulder.

  
  


_Damn he looks different out of that uniform._

  
  


“You can let her down, Carl,” he said, as he placed his jacket on the back of a chair. “She’s not gonna destroy the damn place. I want you to feel at home here. C’mon.”

  
  


He showed Carl the spare bedroom. It was a clean slate. A full-sized bed, a dresser, and a large TV. All lacking personality. “You and Little Miss Dollface can have this room. We’ll put her Pack ‘N Play over here with her crib mattress. Go ahead and set up your video game shit and unpack your clothes. Make it yours. I’m gonna show your dad around.”

  
  


He walked Rick down the hall and showed him the linen closet stocked with clean towels. The bathroom that was still steamy and fogged up from his shower moments ago. He could smell Negan’s soap. He led him down the hall to the master bedroom. It was cozy and inviting.

  
  


“You can take my room, Rick.” Negan opened the closet and pushed his clothes over to one side.

  
  


“Uh.” Rick was searching for the right thing to say. “ No… no I can’t do— ”

  
  


Negan stopped him. “You can. You will. I’ll take the couch.”

  
  


“I’ll take the couch, Negan,” Rick insisted. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable taking your bed away from you.”

  
  


Negan smiled. “You ain’t taking shit from me, Blue Eyes. I’m giving it to you. You would not be comfortable sleeping on that goddamned couch. Trust me.”

  
  


“It’s comfortable enough for you but not for me? No,” Rick said. “I’ll sleep with Carl then.”

  
  


Negan shook his head. “Rick, that bed’s not big enough for two people.”

  
  


Rick looked at him. “Negan, I’m not taking your— ”

  
  


“Okay okay okay,” Negan interrupted, putting his hands up in the air. “This is a goddamned king-sized bed. It’s plenty big enough for both of us. If you’re game. Whatcha fuckin’ say, Blue Eyes? Roommates?”

  
  


Rick blinked, expressionless.

  
  


Negan wasn’t giving him any wiggle room. “Which side you want? It’s comfy as shit! You’ll learn the true meaning of the word _relaxogasm_ once you get your ass in there.”

  
  


“I don’t know. This is... Shane would kill— ”

  
  


“Do not finish that sentence, Rick! Shane’s not fuckin’ here!” Negan was probably a little louder than he meant to be, causing Rick to recoil in fear. Waiting for an inevitable punch or slap to sail in his direction at any moment.

  
  


Negan realized instantly what was happening. “No, Blue Eyes. No.” He took his hand. He was shaking. “Shit. Nothing like that’s gonna happen to you here. You’re safe here. Fuck I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Rick.”

****

_Goddamn you, Shane!_

  
  


Rick looked up at Negan. “I’ll sleep wherever you tell me to. It’s your house.”

  
  


“Rick.” Negan sighed. “I just wanted you to be comfortable. I didn’t think, with all of your fuckin’ breaks and bruises, that the couch would be the best option. But if that’s what you want, you can have it.”

  
  


Rick nodded.

  
  


And listen to me,” Negan resumed. “Please don’t ever think that I would hit you. That damn near shattered my fuckin’ heart. I’m just a loud asshole sometimes. Okay?”

  
  


Rick nodded again as something rubbed against his leg, causing him to nearly piss himself.

  
  


“Hey there, Luce.” Negan picked up his cat. “I thought you’d be hiding from our new friends. She must like you, Rick. Every goddamn time Simon comes over, she’s out for fuckin’ blood. You like Blue Eyes, Lucille? Huh?”

  
  


Lucille gave out a soft _merrrrrow_ as if answering his question.

  
  


“What’s that, girl? You _do_ ?” He winked at Rick. “ _So_ do I.”

  
  


Rick huffed out a puff of air that might have been considered a laugh and felt his face heat up.

 

                                                                          

***

 

 ****  
** ** Negan kept texting Carl from the grocery store.

  
  


**Negan: Does your dad like spaghetti?**

**Carl: yeah**

****

**Negan: What’s his fav ice cream?**

**Carl: vanilla**

**Negan: That figures.**

**Carl: huh?**

**Negan: Nvm**

****

**Negan: Is he a meat & potatoes kinda guy? **

**Carl: i guess so**

**Negan: So he can handle a BIG t-BONE? :P**

**Carl: gross**

****

**Negan: What’s my lap monster up to?**

**Carl: you talking about dad?**

**Negan: HAHAHAHAHA!**

**Negan: I was actually talking about Lucille but I like your answer better!**

**Negan: Hell yeah!**

  
  


Carl put Judith in her makeshift bed for a nap. He found his dad in Negan’s bedroom, putting his underwear and socks into an empty drawer.

  
  


“Dad.” Carl was looking at his phone. “I think Negan likes you.”

  
  


“We wouldn’t be here if he didn’t like us, Carl. He took us into his home and he doesn’t even know us.”

  
  


Rick kept dropping his socks and underwear. ”Shit!” he growled in frustration. There was only so much he could gather in his one good arm.

  
  


Carl picked up after him, knowing it hurt him to bend over. “No, Dad. I mean like he has a crush on you or something.”

  
  


Rick already had a pretty good idea that Negan was crushing on him a little bit. He wasn’t an idiot. But he was curious as to why Carl thought so. “What makes you say that?”

  
  


Carl tried to read the texts but they proved to be funnier when read out loud. Rick wasn’t laughing. He was standing dumbfounded with his mouth wide open when Carl’s phone notification sounded again.

  
  


“Whatcha wanna bet it’s him again?” Carl opened the text. “He wants to know which detergent you wash those fire engine red boxers in.”

****

Rick was mortified. And in front of his own son. “Tide, Carl. Just tell him Tide.”

****

“Should I tell him you like to throw in a little Snuggle because you like ‘em soft?”

****

“That’s enough, Carl.”  Shit. He was blushing. Again.

  
  


***

  
  


Carl helped carry about twenty bags of groceries into the house. Negan made Rick sit down. “We got it, Blue Eyes. You just relax.”

****

“I can still carry shit with this arm, Negan.” Rick waved his arm in the air. He wished he hadn’t as it tugged at his broken ribs. He tried to hide the pain, but Negan saw right through him.

  
  


“Mmmhmm, yeah.” Negan flashed him an irritatingly smug smile. “I can see that. _Sit_. We got it.”

  
  


Rick’s phone beeped while Carl and Negan made another trip to the car for more bags.

  
  


“No.” Rick whispered. “No no no.”

  
  


**Shane: u need to get ur ass back home now**

**Shane: i’m gonna gut carl in front of you when i find u**

  
  


“What’s wrong, dad?” Carl noticed something off about his face when they came back in but Rick brushed him off. There was no way he would let Carl see _that_ text.

  
  


Negan noticed him staring at his phone. He was obviously distressed. He dropped the bags off in the kitchen and came back to Rick.

  
  


“Let me see.” He slid the phone out of Rick’s hand. “Son of a motherfuckin’ whore! That cock-suckin’, cousin-fuckin’, shit-eatin’ bastard!” He went through Rick’s contacts until he found Abe’s number and hit the call button.

  
  


“Officer Ford? Hi. You may not remember me, but I was one of the paramedics with Rick at the hospital last night. Right. Yeah. Listen. I know where you might find your boy, Shane. Yeah, the motherfucker is texting Rick and making threats. Threats against the kid's lives, too. Ordering them _home_. So I’m guessing that’s where he is. No. I’ve got him and the kids with me. Not about to let them go back to that house right now.”

  
  


He wrapped up his phone conversation and sat down beside Rick. He put a hand over his knee. “Listen. You don’t have to worry about that fuckin’ prick. Not while I’m around. He doesn’t know where you are. All he’s gonna do is hide behind his phone and threaten you like the weak little pussy he is. Bully you into coming back. You’re safe here. You know that, right?”

****

Rick looked over at Negan. “I’m scared he’ll hurt my kids if I— ”

  
  


“Rick.” Negan sighed. “Y’know who scares me more than Shane?”

  
  


Rick just shook his head. In his world, there wasn’t anyone scarier than Shane. The man just threatened to gut his only son.

  
  


“You.” Negan was pointing right at him.

  
  


“Me?” Rick was confused. “I don’t— ”

  
  


“You scare me a hell of a lot more than he does. You going right back into that shit? Thinking you’re protecting your kids? That he won’t hurt ‘em if you go back? He’ll fuckin’ kill you.” Negan was clearly frustrated. “You think it doesn’t hurt ‘em when they see him hit you? You think it didn’t hurt Carl to find you the way he did?”

  
  


Rick hadn’t thought about that. About what Carl must have been thinking, feeling in that moment.

  
  


“Your son came home and found you out cold in a puddle of blood. Probably fuckin’ thought you were dead. Your baby girl was left alone upstairs for who the fuck knows how long. Is that protecting them?”

  
  


Rick knew that was a rhetorical question. But his words definitely sank in. Negan sure knew how to make a point.

  
  
  


***

  
  


Negan got busy in the kitchen. Promising Rick that his steak and baked potato dinner would knock his red boxers off. Rick was sitting in the kitchen watching him when his phone beeped again.

  
  


**Shane: pls come home baby**

**Shane: i miss that tight ass**

**Shane: call me**

**Shane: we can work this out**

  
  


“Shit,” Rick whispered loud enough for Negan to hear.

****

“It’s him again, isn’t it?” Negan asked while pouring the marinade over the steaks. “What’d he say this time?”

****

Another beep.

****

**Shane: daddy will fuck u so good when u get home**

**Shane: we can use that thing u like**

  
  


Rick read the new message. “N… nothin’. He just… said he missed me.” It was almost the truth.

****

“Rick.” Negan walked over and held his hand out. “Can I see?”

****

Rick’s skin flushed to his signature deep pink shade of mortification. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

****

Negan cocked an eyebrow and pursed his lips. His hand was still out, waiting for the phone, believing more threats were being made.

****

Rick sighed, reluctantly handing over his phone.

****

His face and neck felt so hot he was sure his skin would blister as he watched Negan’s eyes scanning the words.

****

“Huh.” Negan put his tongue in his cheek. “That uh… that would have to be some hot ass, jizztastic sex to go back to _that_ asshole. Tell me, was he that good?”

****

Rick eyed the back door. Hoping Carl would come in and interrupt this conversation. “No, actually. He wasn’t.”

****

Negan could tell he was uncomfortable and he didn’t want to pry, but he was curious now. “So tell me about it.”

****

He hesitated, but replied sheepishly. “He was… uh… selfish in that department. Always had to… to take care of myself.”

****

“Wow,” Negan said. “If this guy didn’t deserve to have his ass kicked before, he sure as fuck does now. You _do_ _not_ pinch pennies in the ‘gasm spasm department.”

****

Rick laughed. A real, honest-to-god laugh.

****

“I knew it!” Negan shouted.

****

Rick looked up, eyes still crinkled with the leftover smile on his face. “Knew what?”

****

“That your laugh would be the sweetest, most melodious goddamned sound in the whole motherfuckin’ world.”

  
  


***

  
  


Judith was in the floor banging plastic cups together when Negan and Carl brought the steaks in from the grill. “I hope you’re hungry, Blue Eyes!”

****

Rick looked over the table and eyed the still-sizzling meat and foil wrapped potatoes. “I’m starving.”

****

It hadn’t crossed his mind how he was going to _cut_ the steak with one arm in a sling. And he damn sure wasn’t going to ask for help. Carl had enough to deal with trying to hold and feed Judith while trying to feed himself. He picked up his knife and attempted to saw one-handed. His efforts proved futile, as all he was really doing was moving the meat back and forth on the plate. His mouth was watering and he was close to just picking the meat up with his bare hand and ripping it apart with his teeth when he noticed Negan staring at him.

****

“Need some help, Rick?”

****

Rick shook his head. “No. I can do it.”

****

_What the fuck did you say no for, idiot?_

****

Negan had already jumped up and had his knife and fork in his hand, cutting his steak before Rick could change his mind. There was a smile threatening at the corner of his mouth as he watched Negan split his potato. That threat blossomed into a full toothy grin when Negan slathered the steamy spud with lots of butter and a wink.

****

“Thank you,” Rick muttered, with a mouthful of the best tasting steak he’d ever eaten.

****

“Anything you need, Rick, all you gotta do is ask.”

****

Rick was astonished. The last person that pampered him like this was his mother. Lori never took care of him the way he took care of her. It felt odd but he cherished it just the same.

****

***

  
  


Negan and Carl put a freshly bathed and baked potato-stuffed Judith to bed while Rick waited in the living room. Carl had asked if they could watch a movie together. Negan insisted on _Sausage Party_.

****

Carl was thankful that his dad had nodded off, in and out of sleep through most of the movie. He would have blabbed the entire time about how inappropriate the movie was for him. Despite his age and Negan's own blatant vulgarity.

****

When the movie ended, Negan made up the couch and helped Rick out of his jeans.

****

“I left your toothbrush on the counter with toothpaste on it,” Negan said before disappearing down the hall.

****

_Does he really think I can't even open a tube of toothpaste?_

****

He felt a warmth in his chest when he noticed that Negan had left a cup of water next to the toothbrush. He definitely wasn't used to someone taking care of him like this.

****

After brushing his teeth, Rick popped his head inside Carl and Judith's room. Silence.

****

He trudged back to the living room and was thankful to hear the distant sound of thunder. He always slept better during a thunderstorm.

****

He settled into the couch and realized something immediately. Negan was telling the truth.

****

_This is the most uncomfortable thing I've ever laid on._

****

No amount of shifting or twisting was going to help. He considered, for a moment, that the kitchen table or floor might be more comfortable. But, between the pain meds and the thunder rumbling outside, sleep and Rick finally met.

  
  


***

****

Rick had been asleep for nearly an hour, when a loud crack of thunder caused him to wake with a jolt. A bright flash of lightning lit up the living room, illuminating the body of a man standing near the window.

****

“Negan? What are you— ”

****

Another flash of lightning. The body was closer.

****

“Negan is that you?” Rick's heart was thumping.

****

A third bright flash brought the man even closer.

****

“What are you doing?” he asked with panic in his voice. “Answer me. It’s not funny.”

****

He finally made out a face when the room lit up again. It wasn't Negan. It was Shane. Eyes as black as the devil's soul.

****

“I'm here to take you home, baby.” His voice was different. An eerie, rattling whisper. “I'm gonna have to punish you for hiding from me.”

****

Rick opened his mouth to yell for help, but Shane had disappeared with an explosive boom of thunder. Rick craned his sore neck back and forth. Scanning the entire room. Trying to find where Shane was hiding. He wasn’t there.

****

_Goddamn nightmare._

****

He rolled off of the couch and padded into the kitchen for a paper towel. His dream had left him wet with sweat. He turned back to face the living room. He knew he wouldn't be getting any sleep on that couch. Especially after that nightmare. He was exhausted. He went into the little bedroom to sleep with Carl, but he was stretched out in an X formation, taking up the entire bed. He found himself walking down the dark hallway. Negan's door was open.

“Negan?” His voice was wimpy and childlike. “You awake?”

****

He heard Negan shift against the sheets. “I fuckin’ am now. What is it?”

****

_I don't want to be alone._

****

“I… I’m sorry to wake you up but... I was just wondering if… if that roommate offer was still good?” He rolled his eyes at how feeble he thought he sounded.

****

Negan didn't answer at first and Rick assumed he was asleep. He sighed and turned to go back to the living room.

****

“Of course it's still good, Rick.” Negan pulled back the other corner of the comforter and patted the mattress.

****

“The government should use your couch as a torture device against terrorists,” he muttered as he eased into the bed beside Negan, too embarrassed to tell him the real reason for not sleeping in the living room.

****

_Fuck, this bed is comfortable!_

****

Rick sighed as his body sank into the bed. His eyelids were heavy. He was physically and mentally exhausted. He was spiralling toward sleep.

****

“Love you,” Rick said, absentmindedly. His eyes shot open and his body froze, realizing what he had said.

****

“Wha… what’d you say?” Negan asked.

****

“Sorry. Force of habit.”  He could only imagine the color of his face.

****

Negan chuckled. “Goodnight, Blue Eyes.”

****

“Night.”

  
Negan closed his eyes with a smile on his face.


	8. Chapter 8

Negan’s eyes fluttered in protest at the rays of sunlight coming through the blinds tapped against his eyelids. “Fuckin’ hell,” he mumbled to himself, looking at the red LED numbers on the clock. 7:48 a.m. Today and tomorrow were his last two mornings to sleep in before he went back to work and the sun had to fuck one of them up. He threw a squinty glance over to his right. He smiled at the messy mop of brown curls and glorious back muscles beside him. 

 

Rick had been sharing Negan’s bed for three weeks now. His ribs and collarbone had healed enough to allow him to sleep on his right side instead of flat on his back. Against Negan’s wishes, he was no longer wearing his sling. His bruises had all but faded and the gash on his forehead healed nicely since getting the stitches taken out. Although he did complain constantly about it itching.

 

“Shit.” Rick grumbled sleepily, rolling away from the offending light coming through the window. “What time is it?”

 

“Almost eight,” Negan answered, mid yawn. “You gonna be okay day after tomorrow? Dealing with Judy alone?”

 

“Yeah,” Rick answered, rubbing his eyes. “We can hang out and watch the same Disney movie over and over and over. Oh and take naps. Fun stuff.”

 

Negan raised up on his elbow. “You sound bored, Blue Eyes.”

 

Rick shot him a glowering look. “Shouldn’t I be? I’ve been under house arrest for 3 weeks.”

 

“House arrest?” Negan mirrored Rick’s expression? “Oh _come_ _on_. House arrest? _Really?_ Don’t you think that’s a bit dramatic, Rick? Even for _you_? You’ve been healing. Hell, you’re _still_ healing.”

 

“I guess,” Rick sighed. “But it’s still boring.”

 

“God, you’re adorable when you pout,” Negan laughed. “I tell ya what. Carl can sit with Judith tonight and I’ll take you out for a drink or two and a bite to eat. That make you happy?”

 

Rick couldn’t hide his smile behind the comforter he’d pulled up over his mouth. That man had smiling eyes. “Yes!”

 

_ Did that sound too eager? _

 

“One condition though, Rick. I get one dance out of you?”

 

“Dance?” Rick squinted. 

 

“Yes. I pick when. You have to agree,” Negan was grinning from ear to ear. “Song of  _ my _ choice.”

 

Rick tsked. “Fine. One dance. As long as it doesn’t involve popping and locking, dirty dancing or  _ anything _ by Madonna.”

 

“Ack! Negan challenged. “ _I _ pick the fuckin’ song, Rick. _I_ pick fuckin’ when. You have to agree. Those are the rules or no dice. Otherwise, we stay home and you pout.”  

 

“Fine,” Rick huffed, getting out of bed and walking toward the door. “And I don’t pout.”

 

Negan simply responded with a whistle as Rick and his blue boxers disappeared from the room.

  
  


***      

  
  


Negan and Carl were playing ball with Judith in the backyard when the back door was flung open and nearly ripped from its hinges. 

 

“Negan!” Rick was running toward him, dripping wet and raving like a lunatic.

 

Negan looked around to see if any neighbors might be watching the practically naked, deranged man waving a cell phone around in his backyard.  “Rick! For fuck’s sake. What the fuck are you doing out here in a goddamn towel? You lost your mind or something? Get back in— ”

 

“I need to tell you something,” Rick said, gasping.

 

“Okay,” Negan needed to calm him down. “Take a breath. Come down off your fuckin’ crazy coaster.”

 

Rick shoved his phone in Negan’s face.

 

Carl looked on as Negan cried out with a whoop and danced around the yard in celebratory fashion. 

 

“What’s going on?” Carl asked.

 

Rick held his towel in place with his free hand as he read the text from Sasha out loud.

 

**Hey Rick. Just wanted to let you know that Shane was arrested last night. Pulled him over and took him in without incident. I’ll keep you posted.**

 

They were all beyond happy and excited at the news, celebrating with a group hug, nearly crushing Judith.

 

Back inside, however, Rick’s euphoric feeling came crashing down around him as reality sank in. Negan would probably be ready to reclaim his house. What reason did Rick have for not going back home now? Shane was locked up. He and the kids would be safe. But something was creating a dreadful feeling. An invisible entity that scared the hell out of him. Prompting him into  _ not _ wanting to go back yet. A force he couldn’t elucidate. Was it the memories of all the shit Shane constructed there? Was it the blood that lie dormant on his kitchen floor? Was it the fact that Negan wouldn’t be there?

 

Outside, Negan was coming to some conclusions of his own. He knew Rick would be eager to pack up and get his kids back home. Back into their own beds. Back to their own lives. But he wasn’t ready. He didn’t want to go back to his mundane world. He relished the crazy that Rick and his kids brought into his life. Into his home. He held dear to the thought of waking up to a warm body in his bed. His reasons were selfish. He knew that. But he just wasn’t ready to not have Rick in his life anymore. It would hurt, but he had to do what was right.

  
  


***

 

Rick stepped into the living room. Beard trimmed and every curl in place but one that wrapped itself over his right ear. He was wearing tight black jeans and a simple, tight black t-shirt. “We still going out?”

 

Negan looked up. His mouth hung open as he took in the sight before him. “Fuck yes, Blue Eyes. We’re still going out. Goddamn if you don’t shine up like a new fuckin’ penny!” He shot Carl a devilish wink. “I shoulda been a fireman, Carl. I got me a  _ hot _ date. He’s bound to set a fire tonight.”

 

Rick rolled his eyes. “It’s not a date, Carl.” He took out his wallet and gave Carl some cash. “Order some pizza. We shouldn’t be too late.” 

 

Negan drove them to his favorite bar. Rick was excited to be out of the house and going somewhere other than the doctor. Negan believed if the car window were down, he’d be panting and drooling with his head stuck out the window.

 

Negan ordered a Tequila Sunrise for Rick and a Whiskey Sour for himself. While he was waiting for the drinks, he noticed a pretty brunette wearing stilettos attempting to flirt with Rick at their table. They talked for a minute or two before she walked away, disappointment written all over her heavily made-up face.  Negan chuckled to himself. He wondered if this was a common problem for Rick. The decided answer was apparently yes as a good looking man approached him this time. He watched the man’s mouth move as he talked. He smiled a lot. Made a lot of hand gestures and body motions. Rick smiled. He saw him mouth a few words and pointed over the stranger's shoulder toward Negan as he replied. The poor bastard walked away with his tail between his legs.

 

Negan was smiling with his tongue between his teeth as he walked to the table. “You already got admirers, Blue Eyes? What’d you say to that guy? I saw him looking at me.”

 

Rick was twisting his wedding ring, avoiding eye contact. “I… I might have told him I was here with you.”

 

“Oh did you?” Negan asked, raising his eyebrows.

 

“Well, I am here  _ with _ you, aren’t I?” Rick was embarrassed. “I’m didn’t come here alone. You brought me. So shut up.”

 

“Fuckin’ adorable.” Negan couldn’t stop smiling. “How’s your drink?”

 

“Mmm,” Rick said, taking a sip. “It’s good. Fruity.”

 

Negan had planned on avoiding the Shane-isn’t-in-your-house-anymore conversation, but Rick decided to bring it up first.

 

“So, I guess you’re excited to finally be getting rid of us.”

 

Negan’s heart sank. “Of course not, Rick. I was just thinking you’d be eager to get back.”

 

“I guess.” Rick said. It was an outright lie. 

  
  


_ Why can’t I just tell him the truth? _

 

_ I’m scared, Negan. _

  
  


They sipped their way through their drinks while Negan took the liberty of ordering food for both of them. “I’ll have the Porn Dog, my friend here will have the Half Pound Cheeseburger and… we’ll split an order of Belgian fries.”

 

Rick bit his lip until the waiter walked away. “I can’t believe you said that.”

 

“Said what?” Negan asked, knowing what he was referring to.

 

“Porn dog? You said porn dog. I heard you.” Rick was turning pink just saying the words.

 

Negan laughed at his bashfulness. “That’s what it’s called, Rick. I swear. The motherfucker is obscenely huge.” He ran his tongue over his teeth and lifted his chin. “Wait until you see me eat it, Blue Eyes. You’ll  _ see _ why it’s called a porn dog.” 

 

Rick took another sip of his fruity booze as he watched couples dance to an upbeat song. He was secretly hoping Negan had forgotten about the dance he’d agreed to.

 

“Thank you,” Negan said, as their food was delivered. 

 

He saw Rick’s face as he eyed his X-rated corn dog. He couldn’t help but laugh. 

 

Rick looked to be in some state of sexual satisfaction when he bit into his burger. “Oh my, God,” he muttered around a mouthful of food. “This is the best burger I’ve ever had.” 

 

“Rick, Rick, Rick. You gotta try this.” Negan held his corn dog to Rick’s mouth. 

 

Rick hesitated, but it looked too good not to try it. He opened his mouth wide and sank his teeth in. As soon as his lips closed around it, Negan snapped a picture with his phone. He kicked Negan’s shin under the table. They laughed and talked and enjoyed their meal.

 

Negan’s eyes lit up when he heard the first few notes of “Crazy For You”. He remembered Rick specifically saying _no_ _Madonna_ but there was no way in hell he could resist this one. He got up and stood beside Rick, holding out his hand. 

 

“What?” Rick questioned.

 

“This is the song.” Negan was serious. “Get up, Blue Eyes. You agreed.”

 

Rick reluctantly put his hand in Negan’s as he led him out to the dance floor. 

 

“Relax,” Negan cooed, sensing his tension. “Just put your arms around me and move.”

  
  
  


_ Swaying room as the music starts _

_  
_ _ Strangers making the most of the dark _

_  
_ _ Two by two their bodies become one _

  
  


Rick hooked his arms up under Negan’s and held onto him by the back of his shoulders. Negan’s arms snaked around Rick’s waist. The two of them swayed side to side to the music. 

  
  
  


_ Slowly now we begin to move _

_  
_ _ Every breath I'm deeper into you _

  
  
  
  


Rick took a deep breath and relaxed his head into Negan’s chest.

  
  
  
  


_ I'm crazy for you _

_  
_ _ Touch me once and you'll know it's true _

_  
_ _ I never wanted anyone like this _

_  
_ _ It's all brand new _

 

_ You'll feel it in my kiss _

  
  
  


Negan leaned in and whispered into Rick’s ear.

 

_  
_ _ “I'm crazy for you” _

  
  


Rick’s grip tightened into handfuls of Negan’s shirt as his emotions took over. They were still moving to a song that wasn’t playing anymore. Negan felt him shudder against him.

 

“You okay, Rick?”

 

Rick sniffed. “Don’t send me away yet, Negan. I know he’s not there now  but I’m not ready to go back. I’ll give you more money. I’ll pay rent. Just don’t send me away.”

 

Negan’s heart swelled in his chest. “Oh, Blue Eyes. I’m not sending you away. My house is your house for as long as you want. And you absofuckinlutely will not pay rent.” He stroked his hair. “If you wanna know the truth, I didn’t want you to go anyway.”

 

Rick sniffled into Negan’s chest. “I just thought you’d be eager to get your home back to yourself.”

 

Negan tightened his hold on Rick’s waist. “This might sound creepy, Rick… but ever since I first laid eyes on you, you  _ were _ home to me. I can’t explain it. You melt my fuckin’ butter, Blue Eyes. Everyone here is so fuckin’ jealous of me. The guy you brushed off earlier, he’s sitting over there giving me some serious as shit stink eye right now. I got the hottest piece of arm candy in the room and they all want a taste.”

 

Rick huffed out a laugh and looked up at him with his wet baby blues. “Thank you. For everything.”

 

***

 

Driving back home, Rick asked if he could stop and get Judith’s stroller from his house. With Shane out of the picture, he thought he could take her for walks while Negan was at work and Carl was at school.

 

“Be right back,” Rick said, jumping out of the car.

 

“You sure you can get it by yourself?” Negan asked. “I can help you.”

 

“It’s not heavy, Negan,” Rick reassured him. “And it has wheels.” 

 

Negan sat in the driveway and listened to the radio. He checked his watch, getting impatient. Rick had been in the house for 15 minutes. 

 

_ How long does it take to get a fuckin’ stroller? _

 

His phone dinged. 3 new texts from Abe.

 

**Red: I hope you got your ears on.**

**Red: Rick doesn’t. Been trying to get thru to him all evening.**

**Red: Shane made bail. Don’t let them go back home.**

 

“Shit!” he shouted. “Shit shit shit shit shit!” If Shane  _ was _ in there, Rick was screwed. He’d walked right in there to him.

 

Negan fumbled with the door handle trying to get out of the car. Hands shaking. Adrenaline pumping. He had nothing. No weapons. 

 

_ Fuck! _

 

He ran to his trunk. His only options were a crowbar and a baseball bat. He opted for the bat. He swung it over his shoulder and walked up to the door He could hear yelling. It wasn’t Rick’s voice.

 

“I warned you, didn’t I? This ain’t a fuckin’ game, Rick! Why can’t you get it through your thick skull?  _ You _ belong to  _ me _ !”

 

Shane’s back was to Negan. They were in the floor. Shane was sitting on top of Rick. His legs kicking and bucking underneath Shane’s weight. He could hear Rick gasping for air. Shane was choking him.

 

Rick could feel himself slipping away. Quickly losing consciousness. His once pounding heartbeat was slowing in tempo. He had immense pressure in his chest and face. He was dying. 

 

Negan watched as Rick’s arms fell to his sides. He swung with all his might and the bat came down hard across Shane’s back, sending him to the ground. Rick immediately began to cough and gasp. Negan swung again. The bat connected with his right kneecap. Shane screamed as the loud but muffled sound of crushing bone permeated the room. He gave his left knee the same treatment. 

 

Rick struggled to his hands and knees, crawling into the kitchen. He used the sink to pull himself up. He reached in and picked up a dirty pair of kitchen scissors. 

 

Flashbacks of Rick wearing a sling for his fractured collarbone played in Negan’s mind. He whirled his bat around with brutal force, destroying what was once Shane’s clavicle. He fell to his back, clutching his shoulder. Negan took advantage of his position and stomped on Shane’s ribs, enjoying the cracking sound the bones made when they broke. Repayment for breaking Rick’s ribs. 

 

Rick clenched the scissors in his hand as he made his way back to Shane. He looked up in time to see Negan’s bat connect with Shane’s jaw. 

 

“No!” Rick screamed, as Negan’s bat was on the verge of slamming straight into Shane’s skull. “Don’t! Don’t kill him!”

 

Negan looked at Rick. “Try and stop me! He just tried to fuckin’ kill you, Rick! This sorry shit deserves to die!”

 

Rick threw himself down on top of Shane, putting himself between him and the bat. Negan growled in frustration and anger. “Goddammit, Rick!”

 

“Call 911, Negan.” Rick’s voice was hoarse but calm. Eerily calm. “Tell ‘em it was in self defense.” 

 

“Rick. What are you— ” 

 

“Damn you, Shane, for making me do this!” Negan saw Rick’s hands go up then slam back down. 

 

Negan walked closer. Shane was bleeding from his chest. Rick lifted the scissors and brought them down a second time. Plunging them into his chest again. “This was you! Not  _ me _ !” 

 

Negan watched him as he continued to scream and stab into his chest and neck. He had an apathetic look on his face. Negan was unquestionably unnerved at the sight before him.

 

_ “You _ did this to us!” 

 

Shane’s body resembled raw beef more than human flesh as Rick continued to stab and slash. “This was you! Not me! Not me! _Not_ _me_!”

 

“Rick.” Negan needed to stop him. “Rick! That’s enough. He’s gone. He’s gone now.” 

 

Rick’s assault ceased. He was breathing heavy but his face still lacked any emotion. It was as if Rick wasn’t inside his own body anymore. Negan helped him to his feet. 

  
Rick looked down at the bloody carcass lying in his floor. His eyes narrowed. “I don’t belong to you anymore.”


	9. Chapter 9

Negan ushered Rick to a chair in the kitchen. “You wanna let me take those?” He was still gripping the scissors tightly in his right hand. “It’s gonna be okay, Rick.” Negan pried the bloody shears from Rick’s equally bloody hand.

 

Negan placed the scissors on the edge of the sink. He dialed Abe’s number and told him to get to Rick’s house with more units. “No. We don’t need an ambulance, Abe. A coroner might be a good idea, though.”

 

“I gotta get back to the kids,” Rick said casually, as if he’d been playing a game of cards with his friends instead of justifiably killing his abusive asshole of a husband. 

 

Negan went over Rick’s appearance with elevator eyes. “Rick. You’re covered in blood. You can’t go home like that. We’ll get you cleaned up after the detectives do their thing.”   
  
“If I get arrested, Negan,” Rick said, looking at the floor, “you have to get the kids to Lori. To their mother.”

 

“You won’t be arrested, Rick,” Negan wasn’t exactly one-hundred percent sure of that but he was optimistic. “They know what he did. They knew what he could do. Hell, who do you think warned me about him being here tonight?”

 

“She lives in California. Number’s in my phone.” It was as if Rick hadn’t heard a word he said. “I… I gotta get back to the kids.”

 

“Are you hearing  _ anything _ I’m saying? Rick?”

 

Rick was pale and trembling.

 

Negan took Rick’s hand. “I'm gonna check your pulse.” He suspected he might be in shock. “Are you here with me? Rick?”

 

Rick looked at Negan and whispered. “Is he really gone?”

 

Negan smiled. “That son of a bitch is goner than gone. You damn near took his fuckin' head off. You stopped him yourself. You ended it.”

 

Rick looked over at the lifeless body then back to Negan. “You saved me. He was going to kill me. I thought... I thought I was already dead.”

 

Negan took Rick's bloodied hand in his as he teared up, realizing he’d kept his vow. “I was suppose to save you, Blue Eyes. I already told you. I promised Lucille.”

 

 

 

***

 

 

Abe told Negan to take Rick home. No charges would be filed against either one of them. With the house still being treated as a crime scene, they made the short walk to Carol's house. After explaining what had happened at Rick’s, she allowed Negan to clean Rick up in the bathroom. He scrubbed away any visible blood, promising a more thorough cleansing when they got home.

 

Before they left, Negan took Carol aside and asked if she would supervise Rick and Judith Monday morning. He couldn’t afford to miss anymore work but was worried about Rick being alone after this. Especially with the baby. She wholeheartedly agreed.

 

“You're a lifesaver, Carol,” he said, giving her a piece of paper with his address and phone number written on it. “Thank you.”

 

He was astonished by how cool Carol was about the situation. Her neighbor just killed his abusive spouse and she's offering them cookies. 

 

Carol smiled at him. “Nonsense. He's like family to me. We got a lot more in common than he knows.”

 

Negan just nodded, pretending to know what she meant by that. In all honesty, he didn’t know much about her at all, but he knew that he liked her.

 

“You take care of him tonight, Negan. He’s gonna need a little TLC.”

 

“Will fuckin’ do, Carol. Thanks again.” He winked at her as he closed the door. 

 

***

 

Carl and Judith had gone to bed when they got home. Negan took Rick to the bathroom and told him to shower while he got the bed ready. He stripped himself of his blood spattered clothes, stuffing them into the trash instead of the hamper. They were infected. Shane’s blood was full of hate. He wouldn’t wear them again. He  _ couldn’t _ . 

 

As the first drop of hot water hit his skin, his mind took him back to his house. Shane’s hands around his throat. Tightness. Pain. Pressure. Squeezing the life out of him. He could still feel them there. Shane’s words still echoed in his head. The repulsive words spewing out of his mouth like vomit. Staring down on him. Eyes glowing with malevolence.

 

_ Stop. He’s gone. _

 

Rick came into the bedroom to see that Negan had turned the bed down and left two pills from his prescriptions and a cup of water on the nightstand. Opening his drawer at the dresser, he pulled out a pair of boxers and slipped them on. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his trembling hand reached for the cup of water. After the pills were swallowed, he stretched out on top of the cool sheets. Shane was there, too. Hiding behind his closed eyelids. 

 

_ You’re not supposed to be here. _

 

Negan was making his way down the hall. Hearing his approaching footsteps and not wanting to face him, Rick quickly turned over on his side and closed his eyes. He felt the comforter cover his body and a hand brush over his hair. The light clicked off and the mattress dipped down beside him. His conscience-stricken tears were now falling over his nose and wetting his pillow. 

 

He thought about how Negan had held him earlier at the bar. Barely moving to the music. He felt safe. Weightless. He slid over, inching closer to Negan. He was still too far away.

 

He moved closer. 

 

Closer. 

 

Closer, until he could feel the heat radiating from his body. He wanted to be held. He  _ needed  _ it. Rick reached behind him and found Negan’s hand. He pulled his arm across his waist and felt himself being accepted and pulled into his chest. 

 

“You’re okay, Blue Eyes,” Negan whispered against his neck. “It’s gonna be okay.”

 

Rick wanted to believe that. But his emotions were in control right now. Guilt, shame anger, and resentment. A plethora of other emotions taking over his entire being .  He managed to hide his tears in the dark, but he couldn't mask the sobbing. 

 

“I’m no different, Negan.”

 

Negan didn’t understand. “What do you mean, Rick?”

 

“How am I any different than the monster that killed your Lucille? From the monster that tried to kill me? His voice was cracking painfully. “I’m one of them.”

 

Negan sighed and rested his forehead against the back of his head. “Shit, Rick. You're no monster. You took out the fuckin’ trash. That's all. You did the one thing that you thought you couldn’t do. You stopped him. You’re free. You’re safe. Your kids are safe.” 

 

Rick’s tears were still falling steadily. His body jerking against Negan.

 

“You’re not broken, you know? You may feel like you are. You may feel like that for a long goddamn time. But he didn’t break you, Blue Eyes. He just fuckin’ bent you. You will straighten out. You will be a better person after this. Hell, you’ll be a better person  _ because _ of this.”

 

A combination of the drugs and the endless waterfall of tears had caused Rick’s eyes to grow heavy. “I want to sleep now.”

 

Okay, baby. You sleep. I got you.” Negan grazed his fingernails up and down the length of Rick’s arm as he hummed the tune of “Blue Eyes” softly against his back.

 

“That’s  _ my _ song,” Rick whispered.

 

He shushed him and continued his coddling and humming. He slowly felt Rick let go as his body went limp and his breathing even out. He allowed himself to feel at ease, thinking Rick had found temporary shelter in sleep. Slipping into oblivion and leaving the worries of his current world behind. But Rick’s night was anything but sheltered. Shane’s ghost was relentless. Haunting and harassing Rick throughout the night in his dreams.

 

 

***

 

 

Negan was pulled from his sleep shortly after 2 a.m. as Rick slid out of his arms. He was crouched on his hands and knees at the foot of the bed, facing the wall, whispering.

 

“No no no no no. No no no no no no no.”

 

“Rick. You okay?” Negan was dazed and confused. 

 

“Why are you here? Wha… what do you want from me?”

 

Negan jumped out of bed and put himself between Rick and the wall. “Rick?”

 

“Get out!” he screamed, crawling backwards as if someone or something was coming at him.

 

“Whoa whoa whoa.” Negan wasn’t sure if he could hear  _ or _ see him. He seemed to be looking right through him. “It’s me, Blue Eyes. It’s me. You’re okay.”

 

“You don’t belong here! Get out! Please!”

 

Negan was rattled. Easy, Rick. Easy.”

 

“ _ Why _ are you here  _ now _ ?” 

 

Negan reached a hand out and touched his shoulder, causing him to jump. “Rick. There’s no one in this room right now but you and me.” 

 

Rick looked up, his heart hammering in his chest. His face an interfusion of half asleep and panic. “Negan?”

 

Negan sighed in relief. “Yes, Rick. It’s me. It’s only me.” 

 

Rick sat silent. Eyes scrutinizing every inch of the bedroom before nodding, satisfied that they were indeed alone. He slid over to Negan’s side of the bed and pulled him down beside him. He tugged on Negan’s arm until he took the hint and turned to face him. Rick curled up and buried his face in Negan’s chest.

 

“I’m sorry,”  Rick said, breathing against his skin. “I just don’t want to see him if he comes back.”

 

Negan pulled him closer and cocooned him in his arms. “Don't be sorry, Blue Eyes. Goddammit. Why couldn’t I have met you before him?”

 

***

 

 

Negan was woken up by the steady thump and ping of a basketball hitting pavement. He looked over Rick’s head at the clock to see that it wasn’t even seven o’clock yet. Rick’s breath was steady and warm against his chest. He could have stayed, right there in that spot, for the rest of his life, but he eased his way out of bed, putting a pillow in his place. Looking out the window, he saw Carl entertaining himself in a one-man basketball game.

 

_ What the hell? _

 

He slipped his jeans on from last night and made his way down the hall. He stuck his head in to check on Judith. She was sleeping like a log. He padded into the kitchen and spun the coffee carousel. He decided it was a Caramel Macchiato kind of morning and brewed himself a much-needed cup of caffeine, inhaling and appreciating the aroma.

 

Carl looked up when Negan joined him out back. He sat down at the bistro table with his coffee.“What’s up, Carl? A little early for a game of fuckin’ hoops, don’t ya think?”

 

“Couldn’t sleep,” Carl said, continuing his ball dribbling. 

 

Negan hummed, sipping his coffee. “There a reason or just one of those things?”

 

Carl didn’t answer.

 

“Carl?”

 

Carl shot the ball at the net but missed. He stood with his hands on his hips and his back to Negan. “Heard dad yelling last night.”

 

Negan pushed the other chair out with his foot. “Sit down, Carl. Let’s have ourselves a fuckin’ man-to-man.”

 

Carl sauntered over, slowly putting one foot in front of the other. Not even bothering to hide the fact that he obviously didn’t want to. He planted himself in the chair with a plunk and crossed his arms.

 

“Wanna tell me what the fuck’s eatin’ Gilbert Grape or do you just wanna keep it to yourself?” Negan has never been known for sugar-coating situations.

 

Carl gave Negan a baffled look. “It’s nothing that concerns  _ you _ .”

 

“ _ Je _ - _ sus _ , kid.” Negan sneered . “I dragged my ass out of bed on my last morning off to come out here and check on you. How ‘bout you at least  _ try  _ and fuckin’ humor me here.”

 

Carl huffed. “When I heard the things dad was yelling... I thought … I thought Shane was here. Thought he’d found us.”

 

“Shit, kid.” Everything in him wanted to scream  _ Shane is dead _ , but he stopped himself. He wasn’t sure if now was the right time.

 

“I listened outside your door and heard you trying to calm him down.” Carl was looking up through his long hair. “Figured he’d had a bad dream or something. Just couldn’t sleep after that, okay?”

 

Negan grumped his face up. “I’m sorry, kid. Y’know, you can talk to me anytime. I’m a good listener. Your dad opened up to me at the hospital. I won’t judge.”

 

“Dad talked to you about all of this?”

 

Negan chose his words carefully. “Yeah he did. I won’t go into detail but he got some shit off his chest. Seemed to help him for a while. A form of therapy, I guess. Shane was a sick son of a bitch.”

 

“Was?” Carl questioned. “Him being in jail doesn’t erase everything he’s done to my dad and m—”

 

Negan raised an eyebrow. “Your dad and  _ you _ ? Carl, he hit you, too?”

 

Carl breathed heavily and brought his wet eyes up to meet Negan’s. “Dad doesn’t know.”

 

Negan was furious. Furious at a dead man. “That bastard. What about little Judy?” 

 

“No,” Carl sniffed. “He just used her against my dad, as far as I know.” 

 

He sat quietly for a couple minutes then continued. “With me, when I did something that Shane didn’t like, he would give my dad the choice of taking my punishment for me, or letting me take it myself. Dad always let Shane punish him instead of me.” Tears were leaving tracks down Carl’s cheeks. “I would have to lay in bed and listen to my dad scream in pain. For something that was my fault” Carl wiped his face with his sleeve. “One night, he broke three of his fingers because I missed the bus home from school. Had to tell the doctor at the hospital that he slammed his hand in the door.”

 

Negan hid his face behind one of his hands. He was sickened by what he was hearing.

 

“And he had a metal rod,” Carl continued. “He used it to hit the bottom of my dad’s bare feet. He would hit him twenty or thirty times, or until he threw up.”

 

“Holy fuckin’ hell,” Negan whispered. 

 

“Shane’s favorite was the hot sauce. He bragged about it being seven-hundred times hotter than regular hot sauce. He ordered it specifically for punishment. Fed him a big spoonful. Shane would laugh and call him a pussy for gagging and throwing it back up in his mouth when he’d try to swallow it. But he  _ had _ to swallow it. His eyes watered and his nose would run into his mouth. He’d be wet all over with sweat.”

 

Carl cleared his throat. “Then there were times when he’d get pissed at me and dad  _ wasn’t  _ there. He’d hit me with my own belt until he got too tired to swing anymore. Sometimes I got the metal rod. All I could think about during those times was,  _ at least it’s not dad. _ ”

 

Negan was deeply regretting his missed opportunity to bash Shane’s skull in himself.  

 

“I  _ hated  _ him.” Carl said, looking at the table. “Thought about killing him. Stealing my dad’s gun and putting a bullet in his head while he slept. Wish I had. Then this wouldn’t have happened.”

 

“Carl,” Negan sighed. “None of this shit was your fault. Wasn’t your dad’s fault. Shane was a sick twisted piece of shit.”

 

“ _ Is _ ,” Carl insisted.

 

Negan nodded in agreement. “You’re absolutely right, kid. Hell he  _ was _ ,  _ is _ , and will  _ ever be  _ a piece of shit.”

 

Negan was getting up to take his now cold cup of coffee inside. 

 

“You like my dad, don’t you?” Carl asked, stopping him cold.

 

He sighed.  “Yeah, Carl. I like your dad a lot.” This time, it was Negan who was blushing. “He's special.”

 

After Negan put his coffee cup in the sink, he walked back to the bedroom. He took it all in. The way his curls fell softly over the side of his face. How he was still nestled against the pillow thinking it was Negan. The soft, deep drawn-out noises coming from his nose. The way his upper body rose and fell as he breathed. His bare feet sticking out from under the covers. Those bare feet. 

 

He thought about what Carl had told him moments before. He could  _ see _ Shane striking those feet with the metal rod. He envisioned the pained expressions he must have had. He could imagine the cries of pain with each forcible and deliberate hit. It left him feeling nauseous. 

 

He went back to the kitchen. Carl was sitting at the table, playing a game on his phone. Negan said nothing but opened the refrigerator and took out a couple small items and threw them into the trashcan. Glass clinking against glass.

 

“You should tell your dad about Shane? About him hitting you.” Negan’s voice was somber. He disappeared back down the hallway. 

 

Carl went to the trash to investigate. He dug through the discarded matter. There, pushed down  into the heap of used paper towels and empty food containers, were two bottles of hot sauce. 

 

Indeed, Rick was very special.


	10. Chapter 10

Rick rolled over on his back, vigorously rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. His neck ached and his throat hurt. The pressure in his ears was still present. Shane was gone.

 

The aroma of bacon had filtered its way into the bedroom. It was one smell that always made him hungry. That was all the invitation he needed to throw the covers off and get out of bed. He grabbed a quick shower and shimmied his way into a pair of blue plaid pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt.

 

On his way to the source of the bacon smell, he could hear Judith in her room, babbling and practicing her vocal skills of da-da’s and bye-bye’s. She was standing in her temporary crib, pointing and smiling when she saw her daddy enter the room.

 

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Rick said hoarsely, sounding like he was getting over a bad case of laryngitis. His heart warmed every time those chubby little hands reached for him, wanting to be picked up. “Are you as hungry as I am this morning?”

 

He scooped her up, placed a kiss on her nose and headed to the kitchen. He couldn’t contain his smile as he stood there, watching Negan and Carl work side by side in the kitchen making breakfast. Laughing and arguing playfully.

 

“I told you that was too much, Carl! Dammit!” Negan was trying to catch the waffle batter as it oozed out of the sides of the waffle maker. “Help me, kid, instead of laughing at me!”

 

Judith was enjoying the excitement. Squealing and clapping her hands. Negan looked up, splatters of dried waffle batter covering the front of his black shirt.

 

“See, Carl. I told you we wouldn’t have to wake ‘em up.” Negan winked at Rick. “Nothin’ like the smell of bacon to draw a man bear and his cub out of hibernation.”

 

Rick noticed Judith’s high chair sitting at the table. “How’d this get here?”

 

“We went and got it this morning,” Carl said, taking a batch of steaming waffles out of the iron. “Got her stroller, too. Negan said we could walk to the park later, if you felt like it.”

 

Rick nodded but it felt very wrong to be planning a trip to the park after committing, what he considered to be, murder, last night. He wanted to forget it all. Just pretend it never happened. But each painful swallow, every hoarse word out of his mouth and the pain in his ears all reminded him that he was nearly choked to death.

 

“Hungry?” Negan’s voice brought him out of his thoughts.

 

The kitchen was filled with the sounds of chatter and forks clinking against plates. Rick was laughing while watching Judith show her waffle who was boss with her eight teeth when he felt an unexplainable dark presence, sending chills down his body.

 

“Negan let me drive this morning, Dad,” Carl said, with no response from Rick.

 

Rick looked up. Shane was standing next to Judith’s high chair. Bloodied and mangled from his chest to his chin. He dropped his fork.

 

“You’re not there,” Rick whispered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He’s not there.”

 

“Wh… what?” Carl asked, looking surprised. “Dad?”

 

“You okay?” Negan noticed him looking up and down, beyond Judith.

 

Rick was shielding his eyes with his hands on his forehead. “I need some air.”

 

Rick left the table and walked out to Negan’s porch. He was resting his forehead against the porch pillar with one arm around it when Negan joined him.

 

“Rick, I— ”

 

“Don’t,” Rick cut him off.

 

“Don’t what?” Negan asked.

 

“Just don’t. Whatever you have to say isn’t gonna help me, Negan. I’m being punished. I thought last night… I thought they were just dreams.”

 

Negan put his hand on Rick’s back. “But they _were_ just dreams.”

 

“Then tell me, Negan, why is Shane standing _right there_ , leaning against that tree, looking at me right now? I’m wide awake, Negan. He was in the kitchen, too. Standing next to Judith. Butchered and bloody.” Rick released a shaky exhale. “You can’t save me from _this_ Shane. This is the same Shane I saw last night.”

 

“Rick,” Negan said. “This Shane can’t _hurt_ you either. He's not real. This shit’s all in your head. Everything’s still fresh on your fuckin’ mind.”

 

Rick looked back at Negan.

 

“The eyes serve as the gateway to the outside world. We really see with our brains.”

 

Rick looked at him with questioning eyes.

 

“Okay,” Negan said. “Think about it like this. Your brain is a movie projector. When a certain area becomes over activated, that projector plays one hell of a fuckin’ movie. Sometimes it’s a horror show. You can’t control what it plays.”

 

Rick nodded and looked back to the tree. Shane was gone. “So, you're a therapist, too? I mean, besides superhero, lifesaver ambulance man.”

 

“Yeah,” Negan replied with a lean-back smile. “Your bill’s in the mail.”

 

Rick huffed out a breathy laugh and tucked his hair behind his ear.

 

“Yours _and_ Carl's.”

 

Rick looked up. “Carl? You… you talked to Carl, too?”

 

Negan nodded.

 

“About me?”

 

“That and... other things,” Negan said, looking down at the floorboards. “You should have a talk with him. He's hurting, too, Rick. And I think he should know about last night.”

 

Rick released a long, dreadful sigh. “I don't know how to tell him.”

 

Negan patted him on the back. “Just talk to him, Blue Eyes. The words will come. Now let's go in and eat our cold, soggy waffles. I heard your stomach growling before you came into the kitchen this morning.”

  


***

  


Rick had to stop the stroller long enough to catch his breath and clutch his ribs due to laughing when entering the vicinity of the park. The sight and sounds of Negan and Carl racing to get to the slide first, shoving one another and calling each other names was the funniest thing he had seen in a long time.

 

Negan was too busy celebrating his victory of reaching the slide before Carl, he didn’t notice him climbing the stairs to go first.

 

“Oh no you don’t, you cheating little shit!” Negan yelled, grabbing Carl’s ankle. ”I won fair and fuckin’ square. I go first!”

 

Carl wiggled free and went down the slide, Negan going down head first after him. Rick was wiping away a multitude of tears. Most were from laughing too hard, but some were simply from seeing his son so happy. It had been far too long. But if anyone asked him, he would totally say it was from laughing.

 

Negan caught sight of Rick and Judith feeding the ducks near the water. He was enthralled. Judith was actually eating more of the bread herself than feeding it to the ducks. Negan stood and watched them with a mile-wide smile spreading across his face. He pulled his phone out and captured some more smiling-Rick pictures, one of Judith shoving a piece of bread into her daddy’s mouth.

 

_Fucking priceless._

 

Negan walked over to the water's edge and joined them.

 

“I hate to break up this Hallmark moment here, but you should go talk to Carl now,” Negan suggested, jutting his chin in Carl’s direction.

 

He was sitting alone, in a swing under the trees, kicking around the loose gravel under his feet.

 

“I don’t know if I can— ”

 

“Oh yes you can, Blue Eyes,” Negan insisted. “You _can_ do this. You have to. Don’t worry about me and Judy. We’ll stay here and make duck sandwiches.”

 

Rick shoved his hands into his pockets and ambled off into the direction of the swings.

 

“You look like you’re deep in thought, Carl,” Rick said, easing into the swing beside him. “Mind if I join you?”

 

“Nah,” Carl said. “I don’t mind.”

 

Rick cleared his throat. He wasn’t sure how to start the conversation. “So, you went by the house this morning?” Rick was ill at ease thinking about him seeing the most current bloody mess in the floor.

 

“Yeah,” Carl said. “Negan made me wait in the car, though.”

 

Rick nodded and looked over to Negan and Judith. Judith was toddling around, attempting to chase down a duck that swiped a piece of bread from her hand.

 

“Shane hit me.” Carl had’t meant to blurt it out like that but he didn’t seem to have much control over his tongue.

 

Rick dropped his head. “I know. I know that now. He… he told me last night.”

 

“Last night?” Carl asked, looking bewildered.

 

“Bragged about it is more like it,” Rick continued. “I’m so sorry, Carl.”

 

Carl’s face was a concoction of confusion, anger, sadness and shame. “Shane’s in jail. How did he— ”

 

“I killed him,” Rick said directly. Head still down. “I killed Shane.”

 

Carl was quiet. Rick couldn’t bring himself to look at him.

 

“I went to the house to get the stroller. He was there. He tried to kill me.”

 

“Dad—”

 

“He choked me. Slammed me against the wall by the throat. I tried to fight back but he kicked my feet out from under me and we hit the floor. He climbed on top of me and started choking me again. His hands were cold as ice. He started talking while I was trying to pry his fingers off of my neck. Told me how he used to, _deal with you,_ as he put it, when I was at work. After that, I kinda gave up. I realized I hadn’t protected you. Everything around me was going dark. Had a ready-to-die feeling come over me. Then, all of a sudden, he was off of me. When I got my wits about me and could see what was happening, I saw Negan. He was swinging a baseball bat. He saved me. He beat the shit out of him.”

 

He heard Carl sniff and hiss between his teeth. He looked at him. They were definitely angry tears.

 

“It could have ended there. Let Negan deal with him. But I didn’t. I made it to the kitchen and found a pair of scissors. I stabbed him. Kept going. Didn’t stop. I could have but… I just wanted it over, Carl. I just wanted it over. I wanted him dead. I killed him.”

 

Rick looked over. Carl said nothing but rose from the swing. Rick was expecting him to walk or even run away. But he didn’t. He turned and faced his still-seated father and embraced him. Locking his arms around him tightly. Rick could feel the pent up emotions exiting his son's body.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t protect you better, Carl,” he sobbed. “I didn’t know.”

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t protect you, too,” Carl said, snivelling. “I wanted to kill him. For you.”

 

“Well,” Rick said. “He’s gone now. Things can only get better. Right?”

 

“What about Negan?” Carl asked.

 

“What do you mean?”  


“What happens to _him_ now that Shane is gone? He really likes you. I think he’d be good for you. Good for all of us.”

 

Rick laughed, his face beaming, as he watched Negan running around, chasing Judith, trying to prevent her from eating anymore bread.  

 

“I don’t know, son. I don’t know if I’m ready to jump back into something like that yet.”

 

“ _Back_ into something like that?” Carl questioned. “You’ve never had anything like that before, Dad. You’ve had mom. She didn’t give a shit about you. And you’ve had Shane. You deserve to be happy.”

 

Rick’s smile faded. He looked at Carl. Realizing how much he had grown during the past year.. He was a man now. Wise beyond his years. Rick’s eyes watered again.

 

“I’m just scared, Carl.”

 

“Do you like him?” Carl was unabating.

 

“Do _you_?” Rick was clearly avoiding the question.

 

“Yes I do. I’ve seen the things he’s done for you. He’s trying so hard.”

 

Rick laughed through his tears. “Yeah. He’s definitely trying hard.” The tears started flowing again. Chin muscles trembling. “Shane was like that in the beginning, too.”

 

“He’s not Shane.” Carl’s voice was soft but serious. “I told him about Shane’s hot sauce.”

 

Rick’s eyes narrowed. “Why— ”

 

“He went inside, and threw all of his hot sauce in the trash. He said you were special.”

 

Rick looked back to Negan, feeling a warm, tingling sensation spreading in his chest.

 

_I'm not special._

 

***

 

Negan and Carl were on the couch, watching DVR’d episodes of _Breaking Bad._ Rick had disappeared somewhere after putting Judith to bed.

 

“I shouldn’t have had three glasses of lemonade with dinner tonight,” Negan said getting up off the couch. “I’ll be right back, kid. I gotta go make my fuckin’ bladder gladder.”

 

Carl rolled his eyes and mentally added “bladder gladder” to his ever-growing list of Neganisms.

 

When Negan got to the bathroom, he found the door closed. After several knocks and no response, he turned the knob. It was unlocked. Negan’s breath hitched when he saw Rick, lying in the bathtub, earbuds in his ears and his eyes closed. He would have sworn he was sleeping if not for the faint smile on his face.

 

“Rick.”

 

He couldn't hear him. Negan had to get his attention before he ended up standing in his own puddle. He flipped the light off and on.

 

Rick’s eyes shot open.”Shit!” He splashed water everywhere, sitting up trying to cover himself, nearly knocking his phone into the tub.

 

“Sorry,” Negan said. “I just _really_ need to pee. Too much fuckin’ lemonade.”

 

Rick nodded.

 

“Why are you taking a bath, anyway?” Negan asked while emptying his bladder. “Thought you were a shower guy.”

 

“My ribs were a little sore.” Rick couldn’t help but feel awkward. Him sitting naked in the tub while Negan was a _little too_ comfortable taking a piss right in front of him. “I thought… thought it might help.”

 

Negan flushed the toilet and picked up Rick’s phone. “What are you listening to anyway?”

 

“No don’t—” Rick tried but Negan was already smiling.

 

“You really like this song, don’t ya?” Negan asked, noticing he had “Blue Eyes” set on loop. “That is just too goddamn adorable.”

 

“If you could give me a minute,” Rick said, skin flushed pink all the way down to his chest.. “I wanna get out and go to bed.”

 

“Sure thing, Rick. I think I’ll hit the hay my damn self. Gotta get up at four fuckin’ a.m.”

  


***

 

Negan set his alarm and slid under the comforter. Rick was staring at the ceiling.

 

“Goodnight, Blue Eyes.”

 

“Negan?” Rick called out in the dark. “Did you really throw out all of your hot sauce today? Be… because of me?”

 

“ _For_ you, Rick,” Negan corrected. “I threw it away _for_ _you_. Didn't want you to have to look at it. I was afraid it might trigger you. And Carl’s a fuckin’ blabber mouth.”

 

Rick found Negan's hand in the dark. “That’s probably the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me.” He brought his hand up to his mouth and placed a quick kiss on his knuckles. “Thank you.”

 

Rick rolled over onto his side, facing Negan. “Sing for me?”

 

Negan yawned. “I’m too tired.”

 

That wasn’t the answer Rick wanted.

 

“Okay,” Rick said, his voiced purposefully poisoned with pout. “Night.”

 

“Oh my God,” Negan chuckled. “I’ll sing your damn song, Rick. Just put the fuckin’ pout away.”

 

Rick snuggled up against Negan as he started to sing.

  


_Blue eyes_

_Baby's got blue eyes_

_Like a deep blue sea_

_On a blue blue day_

_Blue eyes_

_Baby's got blue eyes_

_When the morning comes_

_I'll be far away_

 

Rick moved in closer, resting his head and chest on top of Negan’s body, his fingers tracing circles through his dark chest hair.

 

_And I say_

_Blue eyes holding back the tears_

_Holding back the pain_

_Baby's… got………….. blue..._

 

His singing trailed off. Rick smiled and wrapped his arm around Negan’s side. He sang _himself_ to sleep.

Rick listened to the slowing rhythm of Negan’s heartbeat, a soothing lullaby in its own right. He closed his eyes and slowly drifted off.


	11. Chapter 11

_4 a.m._

 

Negan's alarm clock blared. An infuriating sound that pulled him out of his peaceful sleep much too soon. He scrambled to shut it off before it woke up the entire house, resetting the alarm for 7:30.

 

Rick was stirring. He rolled over on his back, leaving a wet spot where he had drooled on Negan's chest. He stretched and grunted before settling back to sleep, arms still outstretched above his head.

 

Negan didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay right there and see that face when the sun came up. He grinned to himself and grabbed his phone. He decided he was going to take that face _with_ him. He snapped a picture and snickered at his own wily tactics.

 

He was about to get up when he was struck with another idea. He remembered the shot on Rick's phone of him kissing Shane and eye-fucking the camera. Remembered how that picture angered him _and_ made him jealous. He wanted to recreate it. Make it better.

 

He leaned in and pressed his lips softly against Rick's scruffy cheek. Negan turned his eyes to the lens and snapped. There it was. The way that picture was _supposed_ to look. At least in Negan's mind.

 

***

 

Negan dusted the toast crumbs off his uniform and swallowed the last of his coffee, putting his dishes in the sink as he headed out. With his keys in one hand and the doorknob in the other he heard a shuffling behind him.

 

“Hey.” Rick mumbled, standing there in his boxers. His wild curls were sticking out in every direction.

 

Negan suppressed a laugh. “What are you doing up?”  
  
“Just wanted to say bye.” Rick attempted to tame his hair but he only succeeded in making it worse. “Bye.”

 

“Bye, Blue Eyes.”

 

“You’re not planning on saving some other helpless guy and bringing him home with you, are you?” Rick asked, rubbing his eye.

 

Negan flashed his smug smile. “Is that what you think I do?”

 

“I dunno,” Rick replied, with a hangdog look on his face.

 

“Don’t you worry,” he laughed. “Like I said, you’re special. Now go on back to bed and get a few more hours of rest. You gotta get Carl up for school and Carol will be here later. She’s gonna check in on you and Judy.”

 

***

 

“Why the hell do you keep looking at your phone?” Simon asked. “You got a sizzling porno playing or something?”

 

It wasn’t even daylight yet and they had already been on three calls.

 

Negan laughed under his breath. “No. I was just looking at a picture.”

 

“Let me guess,” Simon grinned. “Your little blue-eyed officer?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Negan,” Simon’s tone was serious. “I’m worried about you, man.”

 

“Worried about _me_?” Negan asked, raising an eyebrow. “What the fuck for?”

 

“Well,” Simon continued. “For starters, you barely know this man, yet you’ve moved him and his two children _into your house_. His husband, who was the reason for all of this, is gone. And we’re talking the 100-per-fuckin-cent-sure-his-ass-ain’t-ever-coming-back kinda gone. But he’s still there. Still living with you. What are you doing here, brother?”

 

Negan released an annoyed sigh.

 

“I mean, I apologize if you _do_ have something going on with him. If you’re sleeping with him or something.”

 

“No no. Nothing like that, Simon.”

 

“Is it like, a boyfriend thing?”

 

Negan anxiously chewed his bottom lip. “No. Yes. I mean... I don’t know. He’s scared, Simon. I’m crazy about him, but I don’t wanna push him. I’ve never met anyone like him, other than Lucille. He’s all I think about. I’m falling…” Negan realized what he was about to say. “I’m falling in love with him, Simon.” It came out as a whisper.

 

Simon shook his head and exhaled deeply. “And what happens if he doesn’t feel the same way? I don’t wanna see you hurt again, man.”

 

“Simon, he slept on my chest last night. He sleeps in my fuckin’ bed every night.”

 

“That’s precisely my point,” Simon said, hitting the steering wheel for emphasis. “What if he’s just using you for comfort? What if what you _really feel_ is pity?”

 

“Simon. If all I get out of this whole motherfuckin’ thing is helping Rick get better, to help him _be_ better, then it would all be worth it to me. Yeah, it _would_ break my fuckin’ heart. But as long as he’s okay, I’m okay. Okay?”

 

***

 

_7:45 a.m._

 

Rick woke up in a fright, hearing his phone ding and vibrate against the nightstand. He knew he’d overslept.

 

**Negan: Don't go back to sleep.**

**Blue Eyes: I won’t.**

**Blue Eyes: But I did.**

**Negan: I knew it.**

**Negan: WAKE UP**

**Blue Eyes: I’m up.**

 

Carl left the house with wet hair and Pop-Tarts in hand, irritated because he was late. He would have to hustle as it was a 20 minute walk.

 

Rick took a change of clothes into the bathroom and examined himself in the mirror. His hair had gotten a little too long and his beard…

 

He sighed.

 

Shane always did inspections of Rick's appearance. Everything had to be approved by him. Had to meet certain _requirements_. Every part of him was scrutinized. His beard was no exception. A certain length and thickness had to be maintained.

 

“Your beard needs a trim, Rick. You know how I fuckin’ want it.”

 

The voice was icy and sickening. Rick's heart pounded and his mouth went dry when he caught Shane's gory reflection in the mirror.

 

Rick closed his eyes. “You can't hurt me anymore, Shane.”

 

Negan was right. When Rick opened his eyes again and looked into the mirror, Shane was gone. Rick picked up the trimmer and looked at it. He looked back to his reflection. Putting the trimmer back on the counter, he reached for a can of shaving cream.

 

 _This is my face_.

 

When he finished and toweled away any remaining shaving cream, he smiled, looking at himself in the mirror. He looked 10 years younger. Felt it, too. Felt a sense of pride. Confidence.

 

His phone dinged. It was a text from Negan. He opened it. It was a picture from yesterday. Rick was standing in front of the shimmering water, surrounded by ducks. Sunlight was beaming down on his face. He was laughing.

 

Another ding.

 

Negan had sent him the same picture. But it was cropped into a close up of just his face. Rick cringed at first. He hated pictures of himself and the closeness of this image showed every flaw. Then he noticed how happy he looked. How his eyes were smiling, too.

 

Another ding.

 

**Negan:  “Blue Eyes laughing in the sun… ”**

 

Rick's throat tightened and his eyes welled up with tears.

 

_My song._

 

Ding.

 

**Negan: You there Blue Eyes?**

**Blue Eyes: Yeah.**

**Negan: You're crying aren't you?**

**Blue Eyes: Yeah.**

**Negan: You’re prettier when you smile :)**

 

***

 

Judith was sitting in the highchair eating Cheerios and banana slices when Carol knocked.

 

Her arms were full of mail and a couple postal packages. She dumped everything on the coffee table and wrapped Rick up in a long, tight embrace.

 

“It's good to see you,” Rick said, muffled against Carol's shoulder.

 

“You too.” Carol pulled back. “Wow. Let me look at you.” She sucked in a breath. “You look amazing.”

 

Rick blushed.

 

“I'm serious, Rick. I've _never_ seen you look better. Your face!” She ran a hand over his dolphin smooth cheek. “You look great. And look at this little cookie! She’s grown so much.” Carol lavished Judith with kisses and affection.

 

“Here ya go,” Carol tossed Rick a set of car keys. “Negan asked me to drive your car over here. Said he didn’t want you driving before, but he thinks you’re okay now.”

 

“Oh, thank God,” Rick said. “I haven’t been able to go anywhere. I mean, Negan’s been taking good care of me though.”

 

“Oh has he, now?” Carol winked.

 

Rick choked. “N… no… I meant he… we… “

 

Carol laughed. “Relax, sweetie. I was only joking. So, how’ve you been? Everything healing?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Carol took a deep breath. “Rick. I’m so sorry I didn’t realize what was going on between you and Shane. I, of all people, should have seen it. All those times when you would leave and Shane would speak _for_ you. I’ve been there so many times, I should’ve seen it. I should’ve known.”

 

Rick looked at the ground. It was like opening old wounds.

 

“Then the days no one would see you. You were healing _then_ , _too_ , weren’t you?”

 

He nodded.

 

“Carol,” Rick sighed. “How did you end things with Ed? I mean, I know _how_ you ended it, but how did you finally decide that’s _how_ you would end it?”

 

“Oh, sunshine, that was the easiest decision I ever made in my life. I walked in on him beating my Sophia. I ran to the toolshed and put a pickaxe in the back of his head.”

 

Rick marveled at Carol's calm composure. She spoke of killing Ed as if she were reading a recipe for her favorite casserole.

 

“On the fifth swing, his head split like an overripe watermelon. There isn’t a court in this world that would convict me for what I did, and I doubt God even cared. Ed was as bad as they come.”

“I don’t know how many times I stabbed Shane. Wasn’t enough, I’m sure. He bragged to me about beating Carl. _My son_ .” Rick was seething. “I couldn’t allow that. I couldn’t take the chance of that _ever_ happening again.”

 

“Oh, my God,” Carol said, wiping away a tear. “Sophia sure misses him. Maybe they can see each other soon, now that Shane’s gone. Y’know, besides the few minutes they get to spend together at school. ”

 

Rick nodded then sighed. “Can I ask you something else, Carol? Did you ever… see Ed _after_?” Rick looked up with his forehead rumpled. Afraid of being labeled insane for seeing dead people.

 

Carol’s face answered his question before her mouth did.

 

“I’m seeing Shane,” Rick said. “The night it happened… that was the worst. Saw him just this morning. He talked to me, Carol. Am I crazy? Am I… am I crazy?”

 

“No. You’re not crazy. You’re grieving. I saw Ed many times before I got better.”

 

“Grieving?” Rick questioned. “Why would I grieve for—”

 

“You’re not grieving for _Shane_ , you’re grieving for yourself. For Carl. For all the crap he put you through. Just be glad you aren’t grieving for little Judith, too.”

 

Rick rubbed Judith’s hair and kissed the top of her head. “He threatened her more times than I can count. He used her as leverage. The reason I never said anything before. I honestly believed he would killed her.”  

 

They shared a few moments of silence.

 

“You mind sitting with her for a few minutes?” Rick asked. “I'd love to run out and pick up a few things from the store. If you can't it's fi— ”

 

“I'd be more than happy to sit with this little dumpling,” Carol said, tickling Judith. “I've missed her.”

 

“Thanks. I shouldn’t be too long.”

 

“Oh!” Carol shouted before Rick closed the door. “Negan came by earlier, in an ambulance,” she laughed. “Said to tell you he put something in your CD player for you. Said to be _sure_ I told you.”

 

“Okay.”

 

***

 

Shane liked Rick’s curls long, so his first errand was a haircut. He liked it a lot. It was still long enough that it touched his neck and the curls were more like waves now. He hadn’t planned on being so rebellious, but damn if he didn’t feel better.

 

_It’s my hair._

 

He headed to the grocery store. He wanted to surprise Negan by cooking dinner himself. He hadn’t really done anything in the several weeks he'd been there and now that Negan was back at work, he wanted to carry his weight.

 

_Shit._

 

He’d forgotten about what Carol said about the CD player. When he was stopped at a red light, he hit power and pressed play.

 

_Blue eyes_

_Baby's got blue eyes_

 

Rick couldn’t believe his ears. Negan went through all the trouble of putting _his_ song in his car? He was touched.

 

_Like a deep blue sea_

_On a blue blue day_

_Blue eyes_

_Baby's got blue eyes_

_When the morning comes_

_I'll be far away_

 

He jerked his head up to the rearview mirror after hearing a multitude of horns blowing behind him. He hadn’t realized the light had turned green.

 

His finger was already hovering over the replay button to listen to it again when he heard the first notes of another song he recognized immediately. He gripped the steering wheel white-knuckle tight at ten and two as the song played.

 

_Swaying room as the music starts_

_  
_ _Strangers making the most of the dark_

 _  
_ _Two by two their bodies become one_

 

His stomach felt tight and had an odd, overwhelming fluttery sensation. He found it hard to breathe. His first thought was _panic attack_. But this was different.

 

  
_I see you through the smoky air_

 _  
_ _Can't you feel the weight of my stare_

 _  
_ _You're so close but still a world away_

  


He found himself singing along to the lyrics, getting louder with each line.

  


_What I'm dying to say, is that_ __  
  
I'm crazy for you

 _  
_ _Touch me once and you'll know it's true_

 _  
_ _I never wanted anyone like this_

 _  
_ _It's all brand new, you'll feel it in my kiss_

 _  
_ _I'm crazy for you_

 

_Crazy for you_

 

He only had one person on his mind as the song played. Negan. He smiled. He thought about how he helped him get dressed. How he cut his steak for him and buttered his potato. He thought about how he clipped his toenails when his broken ribs simply wouldn't let him. How he'd taken care of every little detail and tended to every little need while he was healing. Then he recognized the fluttering in his stomach. He had butterflies.

 

His giddiness soon faded and anxiety took its place. He remembered how sweet and attentive Shane was at first. How fast _they_ had moved. How horribly, horribly wrong he had been. Thinking Shane actually cared about him. He felt like throwing up. He was so confused.

 

Sitting in the parking lot of the grocery store, he opened the text that Negan sent earlier and clicked on his picture. His smile was so genuine. He looked happy. He wanted this. Needed it. And for the time in a very long time, he realized… he deserved it. But was Negan sincere? Or was he just another Shane waiting to happen?

 

His phone dinged in his hand.

 

**Negan: I miss you Blue Eyes**

 

The butterflies were back.

 

 **Blue** **Eyes: I miss you, too.**

**Negan: Need me to pick up something for dinner?**

**Blue Eyes: No. I'm cooking tonight.**

**Negan: My mouth is watering already!**

 

_So different from Shane._

 

***

 

Rick and Carol carried in bags of groceries while Judith napped.

 

“Sheesh,” Carol said. “Did you leave anything at the store?”

 

Rick laughed. “I went a little crazy. I forgot to eat breakfast. I was hungry and bought everything in sight.”

 

When Judith woke up, he drove Carol home and decided to swing by the school and pick up Carl. Save him the walk. Rick laughed and blew the horn when Carl walked right past him.

 

Carl hopped in the passenger seat. “I wasn't expecting you to… ” He stared at Rick.

 

“What?”

 

“You look different,” Carl explained. “I haven't seen your face like that in a while. I forgot what it looked like.”

 

Rick chuckled nervously, suddenly feeling self conscious. “That a good thing or a bad thing?”

 

“It's a good thing. You look younger.”

 

Rick nodded.

 

“Think Negan will like it?” Carl asked, practically giggling.

 

Rick hadn't thought about what Negan would think. What if he hated it? And why did it matter to him so much all of a sudden?

 

Rick was in the bedroom when he heard the front door shut and Negan's booming voice chatting with Judith. He took a deep breath and made his way down the hall. He entered the living room and stood there, like a nervous puppy, waiting.

 

“Did you have a good day at school, Car— ”

 

Negan's eyes locked on Rick. “Ho-ly shit,” he whispered.

 

Rick's heart sank.

 

_He doesn’t like it._

 

Negan walked over to him. He placed his hand on the side of his face. Feeling the contrast of smooth with slightly prickly. His thumb moved down and grazed over the faint cleft in his chin, lingering for a moment. He turned his head to the side and examined his haircut.

 

“Damn,” he whispered. “Would you just _look_ at what was hiding under all that man fuzz.”

 

Rick smiled… and blushed… then smiled again. His face tingled where Negan’s hand had been.

 

“Holy goddamn.” Negan's hands were back on his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks. “Are these dimples or canyons?”

 

“You like it?” Rick asked.

 

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me right now? You're a stunner, Blue Eyes! You're beautiful.”

 

Rick looked at the ground. He was all smiles and his stomach was doing flip flops and his heart was in his throat.

 

“But,” Negan said. “You were beautiful before, too.”

 

_Damn butterflies!_

  
Rick walked into the kitchen, but he wasn't sure if his feet were touching the ground.


	12. Chapter 12

Rick worked hard preparing dinner. He wanted to impress. He couldn’t, however, keep his mind completely on the tasks at hand. His mind was busy thinking about the man responsible for the sensations in his stomach. 

 

He thought about Negan’s sense of humor as he salted the boiling water. How it enhanced his overall attractiveness. He thought about his bright, sexy smile as he measured cream and grated cheese. His overwhelming self-confidence and charm came to mind while he chopped parsley and minced garlic.

 

Negan looked at the meal Rick had proudly laid out in front of him. Fettuccine Alfredo, Caesar salad and breadsticks. Rick waited anxiously for him to take a bite. 

 

“Mmm. Mmmhmmm,” he mumbled, lips smacking around an indecent mouthful of pasta. “Oh my God. So good.”

 

He was slurping pasta, matching Judith slurp for slurp. 

 

“I think your old man is trying to seduce me here, Carl. Goddamn. Making himself all pretty with a new haircut. Bringing out them damn dimples, using them as lethal weapons. Now he’s showing off his cooking skills? He's setting a trap, and I’m goddamn tempted to stick my hand in it.”

 

Rick smiled, satisfied he had done well. He found he wasn’t very hungry himself, despite missing breakfast and having only a small snack for lunch. His stomach was full of flutters and other strange feelings. 

 

Carl watched in amazement as sauce went flying in all directions. 

 

Rick stood up and removed Judith's bib, placing it around Negan's neck. “I think you need this more than she does.”

 

Negan shrugged and wore it proudly as he continued to stuff himself. 

 

 

***

 

 

After dinner, Carl had retreated to his room for homework and Judith was in the floor tearing a magazine to shreds. Rick and Negan were on the couch going through weeks worth of mail that Carol had been collecting from Rick's mailbox. Negan went for one of the packages, pulling a small knife from his pocket and cutting through the tape.

 

“What the shit?” he whispered, pulling the flaps of the box back.

 

“What?”

 

“Oh Rick Grimes. You sir, are a _naughty_ _boy_.”

 

“What?” Rick asked again, this time a little more flustered.

 

Negan held up the contents of the package. Rick's mouth fell open and he immediately tried to grab it out of his hand. Negan jerked it back out of reach.

 

“Give that to me, Negan!” Rick ordered. 

 

“You hold your horses there, pretty boy. Negan started reading the description from the box. “Booty Call Booty Bender. Blast your butt with major anal vibrations.”

 

“Negan,  _ stop _ .” Rick was hiding and hyperventilating behind his hands. 

 

 _Please_ _stop_. 

 

_ Please stop _ . 

 

_ Please just fucking stop!  _

 

“Give your booty the business with these vibrating anal beads. Made from soft and flexible silicone, the beads slide in up to seven inches deep for serious satisfaction. Press a button on the handle to shake your booty with three mind-blowing speeds of vibration.”

 

When he stopped reading, Rick peeked out between his fingers with one eye. He wondered if it was possible to actually die of embarrassment. 

 

Yeah. Negan was staring at him. Tongue between his lips and teeth. 

 

“Oh God,” Rick groaned. He pulled his shirt up over his head to hide his face. “Oh, God.”

 

“So,” Negan said, examining the toy through its package, “You uh… you ever given  _ your  _ booty the business before? Looks really inter— ”

 

Rick rolled off the couch and made a mad dash for the bathroom. Negan was laughing hysterically as he watched him bolt down the hallway, nearly tripping over his own feet.

 

As soon as it was closed, Rick was sliding down to the floor with his back against the door, his head in his hands. Of all things that could have been in that package, it  _ had to be  _ a sex toy, and in front of Negan, of all people. 

 

Rick spent about an hour, hiding in the bathroom, wallowing in his humiliation before making a reappearance in the living room. Carl finished his homework and was quietly reading a comic under the covers with a flashlight. Negan had put Judith to bed.

 

“There you are,” Negan said. “Thought you might’ve crawled out the fuckin’ window or something. I put your little play-pretty in the drawer. Hid it underneath your underwear.”

 

Rick was relieved,  _ somewhat _ . At least Negan didn’t have it in  _ his  _ possession anymore. He sat down and hoped for silence regarding the matter. He didn’t get it.

 

“But I kept the catalog.” Negan said, in a singsong voice, waving it in the air. He was shaking with silent laughter. Feet stomping and a hand slapping against his thigh.

 

Rick looked up with a scornful glare. 

 

Negan ignored it and moved over closer to Rick. He held up the sex toy catalog and opened it to random page.

 

“What do you recommend, Rick?” he asked, as if he were ordering from a restaurant menu. 

 

Rick was still glaring. 

 

“C’mon, Blue Eyes,” Negan elbowed his arm. “You must know what works and what doesn’t. Give me some fuckin’ pointers here.”

 

Rick tried to rip it out of his hand, but once again, Negan was faster.

 

Negan gasped. “What about this? Deep Throat Pocket Pal blowjob simulator. Got one of those? Damn. I need one of those  _ myself _ .”

 

No response.

 

“ _ Please  _ tell me you have this! Earth Quaker anal vibe. Extra long shaft goes deeper than ever to test your abilities. Do you have one, Rick?” He kept nudging him with his elbow. “Do ya? Do ya? Huh?” 

 

“What are you, fifteen?” Rick said, finally. “I don’t own everything in the damn catalog, Negan.”

 

Rick managed to snatch the catalog out of Negan’s hands and jumped up from the couch only to have Negan catch him by the waist and pull him down across his lap, cradling him.

 

“Hey, motherfucker,” Negan said, giggling. “I was looking at that.”

 

Rick folded the catalog and shoved it up under his shirt, wrapping his arm around himself.

 

“I swear to God, Rick, I  _ will  _ tickle you if you don’t hand it over. Do not force my hand.”

 

Rick offered a challenging smirk. “Hate to break it to ya, but I'm not ticklish.”

 

“Is that so?” Negan questioned, with a shit-eating grin. 

 

He dropped his hand down beside Rick’s bare feet, tapping against the top of one. Without warning, he zipped his fingernail up the sole of his foot. Rick’s entire leg jerked in response.

 

“ _ What _ was  _ that _ ?” Negan asked. “Thought you weren’t ticklish.”

 

“That was just a reflex,” Rick offered. 

 

“Oh!” Negan said. “A reflex. Is that what it—” 

 

He abruptly released a full-fledged assault against the bottom of Rick’s feet, leaving Rick kicking and squirming under the grip on his legs.

 

“Give up?” Negan asked.

 

Rick took a second to catch his breath. “No. Fuck you.”

 

“Oh!” Negan whooped. “ _ You _ are a  _ badass _ .”

 

Rick tightened his hug across his chest, letting Negan know he most certainly  _ did not  _ intend on giving up the catalog he had tucked away. 

 

“You are  _ so _ gonna regret crossing me in a minute,” Negan said through a Cheshire grin. “Yes you are.”

 

Negan slowly walked his fingers up one of Rick’s pajama bottom-clad legs, stopping at his thigh.

 

“Last chance, Blue Eyes.”

 

“Do what you gotta do,” Rick said. “You’re not getting this back.”

 

He slid his hand in between Rick’s thighs and squeezed. Negan felt Rick’s backside clench against his leg. He squeezed again. And again. And again. Faster and faster until Rick was wiggling and kicking against his hold.

 

“Timeout!” Rick cried. “I need to pee.” 

 

“Oh ho no!” Negan laughed. “There are no timeouts in war, sweetheart. Give me —  the fuckin’ catalog.” 

 

Negan went to Rick’s stomach where he delivered a merciless invasion of fingers.

 

Rick was laughing so hard, the only noises coming from him were wheezing sounds. He had tears seeping from the edges of his tightly squeezed eyes.

 

He was out of breath. “Stop — I really — need —  to pee.”

 

Rick wiggled free after accidentally elbowing Negan in the stomach. He recovered quickly and attempted to grab Rick by the leg, pulling his pants down and tripping him. Rick rolled over on his back. He was trying to pull his pants back up when Negan grabbed his wrists and pinned his arms above his head.

 

Rick laughed. “What are you gonna do  _ now _ ? You have to let go off my wrist to get the catalog.”

 

A purely devilish smile broke out across Negan’s face. “You wanna lay a fuckin’ bet on that, Blue Eyes?”

 

He dipped his head down to Rick’s stomach and nosed his way under his t-shirt. Rick tightened his stomach muscles and sucked in a quick breath feeling the warm air and scruff against his flesh. Negan laughed deep in his throat when he pulled his winnings out with his teeth. He slung his head and tossed the catalog off to the side. 

 

“You cheated.” Rick whined.

 

Negan huffed. “This was a no-holds-barred match, baby. The fuckin’ rules are thrown out the goddamn window.”

 

_ Baby? _

 

Rick swallowed and licked his lips. Negan watched him and licked his own out of reflex. Their eyes locked. Rick hadn't noticed the green and brown colors that mingled together perfectly in Negan's eyes. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. 

 

Negan leaned in, touching his forehead against Rick's. 

 

“Those damn blue eyes.”

 

His lips hovered above Rick's. Their heated, heavy breaths colliding. 

 

“What's going on?”

 

“Carl!” Rick gasped. 

 

“Goddammit, kid,” Negan whispered. 

 

Rick pushed Negan off enough to slide out from under him. He stood up and quickly pulled his pants up and adjusted his shirt. 

 

“We… we were just— ” Rick tried. 

 

“We were about to fuckin’ make-out kid, but you got piss poor timing.”

 

Rick cringed and face-palmed. 

 

“We we just goofing around and I fell. Go on back to your comics. Sorry we bothered you.”

 

***

 

Negan picked up Judith's magazine confetti while Rick finally emptied his bladder and brushed his teeth. He quickly showered and jumped back into the same boxers. He heard Negan go into the bathroom as he turned the bed down. The sound of running water and a toothbrush tapping against the sink rang through Rick's ears as he slid into bed. 

 

He was facing the wall when he felt Negan crawl in and pull the comforter up. 

 

“Thank you for the CD in my car,” Rick muttered softly in the dark. 

 

“Goddammit, Rick. Get your ass over here.”

 

Rick rolled over and faced him. 

 

“Nope. Still too far away,” Negan said. 

 

He moved over more. 

 

“Closer.”

 

Rick snuggled flush against Negan's side. 

 

“Closer,” Negan whispered, pulling Rick over on top of his body, wrapping his arms around him. 

 

He slid his hand up and cupped the back of Rick's head. “Closer.”

 

Rick's entire body shivered as their lips touched with a light peck. They pressed their lips together again and again, tiny wet sounds filling the room. Desire and lust consumed them as their kisses grew more urgent. Rick favored Negan's bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth repeatedly.

 

Negan's mouth wandered down to Rick's neck. He was panting heavily. Lori or Shane had never kissed him so intimately. He couldn't help the faint moans escaping him.

 

Rick leaned in and placed his lips against Negan's ear. 

 

_ I've never wanted anyone like this  _

_ It's all brand new _

_ You'll feel it in my kiss _

_ I'm crazy for you  _

 

Negan shuddered. The sound of Rick singing so sweetly in his ear brought tears to his eyes. 

 

Rick let the length of his body slide off of Negan and onto the bed, keeping his face buried in his neck. Kissing was enough, for now. 

 

Negan's arms were still holding his blue-eyed beauty close. He let go long enough to stretch one arm out to set the alarm for four o'clock, even though he knew, when morning came, he wouldn't want to leave. 


	13. Chapter 13

Rick was lying in Negan’s arms one night after one of their heated make-out sessions. Negan always hoped during each time, that they could take things further than kissing, but he was letting Rick call the shots as to when that would happen.

 “I think I’m finally ready, Negan.”

 “Ready for _what_ , sweetheart?” Negan asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

 “To go home. I think it’s time.”

 Negan felt like he’d been sucker-punched in the gut. “But… you… I don’t—”

“I want you to come with us, Negan,” Rick said, sensing his alarm. “If you want to. Because I want you to.”

Rick knew his answer when he felt Negan’s grip around him tighten.

“Are you sure, Rick?”  
  
Rick pressed a kiss against the corner of Negan’s mouth. “I’ve never been so sure about anything in my entire life.” 

Negan’s insides turned to liquid. “Okay. But on one condition.”

“What’s that?” Rick asked, looking up.

“We take this bed with us and trash yours. I’m not making love to my boyfriend for the first time in a bed he was abused on.”

 

 _Boyfriend_.

_Making love._

_He wants to trash the bed with so many bad memories._

 

Rick was hit with a surplus of emotions and started to cry. 

“Shit,” Negan whispered. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No.” Rick sniffed and forced the tears to stop. “I don’t know how you do it, but somehow, you always manage to say the _right_ thing.”

Negan cupped the back of Rick’s head, pulling him close enough to reach the sweet spot on his neck. It never failed to get Rick moaning and render him completely helpless. The gentle flicks of his tongue sent shivers through his entire being, evoking noises from Rick's throat that Negan classified as a feral growl.

He kissed and licked his way to Rick’s sharp jawline, leaving a wet trail to his final destination. Peppermint colliding with cinnamon as their mouths met. Sucking and pecking sounds filling their space. Rick parted his lips and invited Negan in. He swore, every time the tip of his tongue met Rick’s, it felt like licking a nine volt battery.

 

_This is what electricity tastes like._

_Feels like._

 

“Goddammit, Blue Eyes,” Negan sighed, pulling back. “That Barbie Doll pucker of yours is gonna be the death of me.”

“Barbie Doll?” Rick sneered. “Look at me, I’m _Ken_ .”  
  
“You might _look like_ Ken darlin’, but that kisser is _all_ Barbie.”

 

***

  

Rick busied himself the next day packing up everything he and his family had brought with them to Negan’s. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t full of dread thinking about going back to that house. The house he was beaten in. Abused in. Hell, even tortured in. Physically and emotionally. But he knew Carl needed his space. Sharing a bedroom with a toddler, even if Carl would never say so himself, had to be exasperating. And, too, Judith needed her dark, cozy room back with a pink everything and an actual crib. 

 

**Blue Eyes: I’m all packed.**

**Negan: I’ll throw my shit together when I get off.**

**Blue Eyes: What about the bed?** **  
** **Negan: Glenn has a truck right?**

**Blue Eyes: Yeah. I’ll message him now.**

 

 

**Rick: Could you help move a bed to my house this evening?**

**Rick: We’re coming back home tonight.**

**Glenn: Hey man that’s great! Sure I can.**

**Glenn: Can Maggie see Judith? She misses her.**

**Rick: Definitely. I’ll bring her to her later.**

 

 

Negan found Rick in the bedroom, taking the crib mattress out of the Pack ‘n Play. He snuck up on him and grabbed him from behind, causing him to yelp.

“Don’t do that! You scared the shit outta me!” 

Negan turned him around. “Aw I’m sorry. I just missed you.” 

They shared a few lingering, wet kisses.

“Where are the kids?” Negan asked. “Judith usually latches onto my leg as soon as I walk through the damn door.” 

“Carl made plans with Sophia for the night. Something about a ton of pizza and a video game marathon. And Judy is at Glenn and Maggie’s. She asked if she could keep her overnight.”

Negan let that sink in for a minute. “Wait, wait, wait. So we’re kid free tonight?”

“Yep.” Rick wrapped his arms tightly around Negan’s waist. 

“Hot damn! After we get this shit unpacked at your house and get the beds switched, _we_ are going _out_.”

“Negan!” Rick was shaking his arm. “Can we get a Porn Dog? Can we?”

“Yes, baby.” Negan was laughing at Rick’s excitement about an over-sized hotdog. “You can have anything you want.”

Rick was ready to thank Negan with another kiss when Glenn knocked on the door. “I

owe you one.”

 

***

 

With Negan’s bed in the back of Glenn’s truck, Lucille in a crate and everything else divided between Rick and Negan’s cars, they were on their way. Rick started to feel sick to his stomach. He hadn’t seen Shane since he kissed Negan for the first time, but he was afraid Shane’s presence would be more dominant at his house, considering he had died there. He put his CD in and listened to the two songs he knew would put his mind in a better place. 

“You ready?” Negan asked, standing outside Rick’s car door. 

Rick took a deep breath and entered through his front door. The smell of bleach immediately infiltrated his nose. The floors, no, the entire house had been cleaned. He was expecting to walk in and see the blood-stained floors that he walked out on nearly two months ago. Rick looked to Negan. 

Negan winked and shook his head. “That Carol. She sure can work fuckin’ wonders, can’t she?”

“You had Carol do this?” 

“Sure did,” Negan said. “Wanted my baby to come home to a clean house.”

Glenn looked up. “Your baby? So you guys are like… a couple now?”

“Well Glenn,” Negan said. “I just thought it was time that someone treated this little darlin’ decent. Don’t ya think?” 

Rick looked at the ground to shelter his reddening cheeks. 

Glenn smiled. “Hell yeah, man. I’m happy for you, Rick. For both of you. Wait ‘til Maggie hears about this. She’s been hoping that you two would get together since that night at the hospital.”

Negan gave Rick a quick kiss on the lips, making Glenn grin awkwardly. “Me and Glenn’ll head upstairs and break your old bed apart then find somewhere to ditch it. You check the kitchen out. I gave Carol money. Told her to go through, toss everything that was spoiled and replace it.”

He looked at Negan. _Really_ looked at him. How could anyone be _this_ perfect? He found himself hoping that he was actually here right now. Not lost somewhere in a dream. He feared that's all this was. A fantasy world that he had fabricated within his own mind. That Negan was simply made up and he was still married to Shane. Afraid he would wake up any moment and still be living in his torturous hell.

 _“Rick?”_ Negan's voice and concerned gaze brought him back to reality. Reality being that Shane was gone and Negan was, in fact, real. “You okay? You zoned out there for a minute.” 

“Yeah,” Rick nodded. “I'm okay.”

  _I'm okay._

 

***

 

With the old bed gone and the new one in its place, Rick and Negan went to work getting it made.

“Get that asshole out of my house, Rick!” 

The voice was intimidating and unnerving. But Rick didn’t get scared. Not this time. He got angry.

“Fuck you! This is _my_ house! Get out!” Rick’s face was red and the veins on his neck were bulging.

Negan looked up. Shock and confusion dwelling on his face. “You… you want me to leave?” 

Rick didn’t mean to, but he laughed. “No. I'm sorry. I wasn’t talking to you. It was Shane. Shane’s _voice_. He told me to get you out of his house.”

“Me being here upsets him? Well, he’s really gonna fuckin’ piss his ghost pants after _this_.”

He ran around to the other side and threw Rick down on the half-made bed. He lifted his shirt and put his mouth on his stomach. Nipping, kissing and blowing raspberries. Rick was laughing hysterically and floundering underneath Negan’s body.

“How’d ya like that, _Shane_? You dead ass motherfucker.” He danced his way back to the other side of the bed. “Let’s finish this shit, Blue Eyes. Then we can get cleaned up and head out for your Porn Dog.”

                          

***

 

Rick showered first, opting for cold water. Negan’s mouth on his stomach had left him quite aroused. He was actually surprised that Negan hadn’t noticed. Negan struck him as the type of guy that could detect an erection from another room. That had been happening a lot around Negan lately. 

Negan strolled into the bedroom, wearing a towel and a smirk. “Nice ass, Blue Eyes.” 

Rick jumped. He was pulling his boxers on. “You literally just went in there. I thought I would have time to get dressed.”

“I’m efficient,” Negan winked. “Where do my clothes go?”

“That was his closet behind you. I didn’t wanna open it. You can deal with it. I can't. I won't. It’s _all_ yours.”

He pulled the doors open. Empty. “Good thing I had Carol trash his shit already.” The smile on his face was priceless.

“Thank you for taking care of all of this. I just don’t want to be reminded of _any_ of it.” 

Negan wasn't listening to Rick's words anymore. Not after he noticed the brown Sheriff’s hat hanging on Rick’s closet door. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! What the fuck is that? _Please_ tell me that cowboy hat is yours, Blue Eyes!” 

“Yeah. It’s mine. And it’s a _Sheriff’s Deputy_ hat. Not a cowboy hat.” 

“Shit.” Negan growled. “Put it on. We’re talking right up there in my top three fantasies. Some Brokeback Mountain freaky deaky.” 

“You’ll see it on me soon enough, when I go back to work.”

“Indulge me.” Negan insisted, dryly. “For _one_ fuckin’ second? I just wanna see what it looks like.”

Rick blew out a breath and put the hat on. “Do you know how stupid I feel. Wearing a hat and nothing else but my underwear?” 

Negan said nothing. Just ogled his cowboy. 

Feeling uncomfortable and outright embarrassed, Rick took the hat off and put it back on its hook. 

“Damn.” Negan said finally, in a growling whisper. “You have no idea what you do to me, Rick.” 

He flashed a timid smile and quickly turned around. He couldn't let Negan see the prominent bulge growing in his underwear… for the second time today. 

_You have no idea what you to do me either._

 

***

 

Rick ordered their drinks and waited by the bar. He could feel Negan’s eyes on him. As he turned to look back at him, a deep, unfamiliar voice crept up behind him. 

 _Not again._  

A nauseating blend of foul, hot whiskey breath, cheap cologne and sweat was invading his personal space. Rick took a step away to avoid the offending odor.

“How ‘bout a dance sweet thang?” 

Rick looked at Negan. He was lost in frenzied laughter at Rick’s expense, watching the unwelcome flirting effort that was taking place at the bar. 

“Uh, no thank you.” Rick tried not to sound rude. “I’m here with someone.” 

“Yeah. I saw y'all come in,” the drunk man said. “That's his mistake. Leaving such a looker standin’ here all alone and up for... _grabs_.” 

Rick tensed when he felt rough fingers slide up under his shirt, seizing and pinching his sides. “C’mon, one dance. I won’t bite ya. ‘Less ya ask me to.” 

Rick rolled his eyes. 

 _Really_?

He was getting irritated. “Like I said,” he hissed. “I’m here with my— ” 

Rick’s drunkened admirer was getting irritated, too. _And_ impatient. He hooked his hand up around Rick’s armpit and pulled him forcefully toward the dance floor. Rick panicked. He felt his throat get tight and was struggling to get his breath. 

“Let —  go of me! Negan!” 

He managed to jerk his arm free from the man’s grip. He looked for Negan. He was on his feet. Rubbernecking over the crowd, trying to see what was happening.

The man was intent on getting his dance. He hooked Rick for a second time, digging his fingers in hard enough to bruise.

“Please. I told you no.” 

The drunk jerked him forcibly against his crotch by guided handfuls of Rick's ass. His disgusting mouth was on his face. 

“St... stop. Please,” Rick begged, wondering why no one was stopping this. 

“You wanna kindly take your motherfuckin' hands off my boyfriend?” Negan was standing right there. Leather jacket, fighting stance and eyes of fury.

When the man didn't let go, Negan took another step closer. “Let me rephrase that you drunk fuck. You _want_ to take your motherfuckin’ hands off my boyfriend!”

Rick was released with a hard shove. He picked himself up and turned immediately into Negan's arms to plead his case.

“Negan. He came up to me first. I would’ve never…  I wouldn't… You have to believe— ”

He realized Rick had reverted and was trying desperately to talk himself out of a beating. 

“I know that Rick,” Negan whispered. “I saw the whole thing. Calm down.” 

“I wanna go home.” His voice was broken.

“No, darlin’. I'm not letting you run away from this. You're stronger than that now. Handle this prick.”

“Yeah,” the drunk teased, grabbing Rick by the arm again. “Handle this prick...” He tried to force Rick's hand on his crotch.  “you hot little —”

With one punch, Rick laid the smelly man out in the floor. He shook his hand in pain. His knuckles already bruising. The now out-cold man's friend got in Rick's face.

“You can’t just fuckin’ punch people like that! I'm calling the cops, asshole!”

Rick pulled his badge out of his back pocket and shoved it in the other man's face. “I am the cops, shit-for-brains. Now, you can either drag this piece of shit outta here and leave on your own, or you both go to jail.”

Negan chuckled proudly and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Atta boy! Let's go get our fuckin’ drinks, Blue Eyes.”

That night, Rick got his Porn Dog… and a bit of his confidence back.

***

Back at home, Rick showered again, wanting to get the deplorable scent of the drunk at the bar off of him, then brushed his teeth and headed for bed. Negan's bed sat differently in the room than the old one. He misjudged and struck his foot _hard_ against the wooden leg. He released a loud, guttural howl.

“Rick!”  Negan yelled, running into the room.”What the hell happened?” 

Rick was doubled over at the end of the bed, hissing in and out between his teeth. “I broke my toe!” 

Negan quietly laughed to himself. “Okay. Can I go back to my show now?” 

“I _really_ think it's broken, Negan. It hurts so much.”

“Alright,” Negan sighed. “Don’t call 911. I’m already fuckin’ here. Let me take a look.” 

He took Rick by the arm and instructed him to lie back on the bed. 

Negan went to put a hand on Rick’s foot to hold it still. “Don’t touch it!” He shouted, quickly drawing his knee into his chest. 

“ _Rick_ , don’t be a fuckin’ baby. I have to touch it to see if it’s broken.” 

He slowly inched his foot toward Negan.

“Which toe is it?”

Rick threw his forearm over his eyes. “The little one. There's a heartbeat in it. Just tell me before you—  Oh! Goddammit!”

Negan gently moved his pinky toe between his thumb and pointer finger, watching Rick for reaction.

“I don't think it's broken, baby. I think you just stubbed it. 

Rick looked at him doubtfully. 

Negan huffed. “I can buddy tape it, just in case. And because you're a fuckin' baby.”

“I’m not a baby,” Rick said, muffled in the crook of his elbow. “It just hurts.” His legs were writhing against the bed.

“Want me to kiss it and make it better?” 

Rick peered up over his arm and nodded. Negan placed a barely-there kiss against his throbbing toe.

“The… the one beside it hurts a little, too.” 

Negan chuckled. “Well we can't have that, now can we?” 

He sucked the tip of his toe into his mouth causing Rick to shudder.

“And the next one. It kinda hurts.”

Negan took his time and gave all 5 of Rick's toes an equal amount of affection.

“Got pain anywhere else?”

Rick nodded slowly. His breathing was growing deeper and heavier. “The bottom.”

Negan placed his lips near Rick's heel and placed kiss after kiss, all the way to the bottom of his toes, causing his entire body to stiffen. He arched his back and his mouth fell open.

Negan moved his attention to the other foot. Drawing each toe into his mouth and kissing the bottom, heel to toe.

He watched Rick as he worked. His hands were fisting in his own hair, pulling and twisting. Biting and licking his lips. Mouth opening and closing. His entire body squirming on the bed.

Finished with the other foot, he pulled back and made a motion to stand.

“Negan!” Rick cried out. “My legs. My legs hurt, too.”

Negan flashed a purely devilish grin. “Maybe I should get you a pain pill.”

Rick shook his head.

“Too far gone for that? Maybe I _better_ call 911.” 

Rick looked at him with pleading blue eyes.

“Ohhh,” Negan whispered. “Those sexy bowed legs of yours need a little lovin’, too?”

“Yeah,” Rick purred. “They do.”

Negan laughed and leaned down, placing a small, open-mouthed kiss against his shin. It was more tongue than lips, earning a smothered moan from Rick.

Negan's gentle fingers were stroking and caressing the inner and outer parts of his long, lean leg, up and down. Rick's insides were on fire, melting like candle wax. Hot and slow.

When Negan reached his knee, he opened his mouth wide and pulled the entire kneecap into his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks. Tongue lapping and teeth scraping.

“Oh... God.” Rick was breathless.

He was a wriggling mass of whimpers as fingers invaded the most intimate part of his inner thigh. Negan's mouth working as though he were eating the most delicious meal he'd ever tasted.

Rick was panting. “This one, too.” His right leg was trembling, feeling neglected. Needing _that_ _mouth_ and _those_ _hands_.

As Negan worked Rick’s needy limb with the same magic he used on the left, he noticed the clear outline of his rock hard cock, resting on his hip joint through his underwear.

“Are we all better now?” Negan asked, eyes bouncing between Rick’s eyes and the front of his boxers.

“Not yet.”

“Show me, Blue Eyes,” Negan said, voice low and rumbling. “Show me where it hurts.”


	14. Chapter 14

Rick said nothing. He looked up at Negan through long, dark eyelashes and lifted his hips off the bed.

 

“Is it your stomach?” Negan asked, well aware he was being a total asshole.

 

Rick shook his head quickly and lifted his hips again.

 

“Your _hip_?”

 

“No,” Rick breathed out heavily, thrusting his hips up and down in Negan's direction. “Here. Right here.” Frustration resonating in his voice.

 

“You're gonna have to help me out here, Blue Eyes. There’s a whole lotta parts down there that could be hurting you. You gotta tell me _which_ part.”

 

Rick's stiff member was, in fact, starting to ache. Never in his entire life, has he felt a desire so strong. Never has he needed a touch from another human so badly.

 

He looked away, eyes closed tightly, and slowly let his fingers walk down his stomach. Through the fabric of his boxers, he gave himself a squeeze, stroking ever so lightly. Revealing the shape of his intimate treasure more than the thin fabric it was concealed in already had.

 

Negan licked his lips. “Who did this to you?”

 

Rick stared blankly back at him.

 

He leaned down and took Rick gently by the chin. “ _Speak_ when you're _spoken_ _to_ , darlin’. Who made this cock hard?”

 

“You,” he shuddered.

 

Negan tsked. “Well I am sorry about that. I truly am.”

 

He tugged at the fabric just enough to expose the blood engorged, leaking tip of Rick's hardness.

 

“Do you want me to kiss _this_ and make it better?”

 

“Yeah. _Yes_. Yes.” Rick’s voice was anything but steady.

 

He lowered his head, Rick watching him attentively, and pressed his lips against the tip, giving it a gentle kiss. Rick's clear sticky liquid stuck to his lips and stretched like hot mozzarella as he pulled back. Negan eagerly licked it away.

 

He gasped at the sight, throwing his arms above his head. But he was greedy. Hungry. The light brush of contact only made him want more.

 

“Again,” he whined. “Please.”

 

He knew how desperate he sounded. Begging pathetically. But right now, in this moment, he _just didn’t care_.

 

“ _Please_ touch me.”

 

Negan gripped his boxers by the legs and jerked them off, leaving Rick completely exposed.

 

He stood and pulled his shirt over his head, winking at his spectator on the bed.

 

Rick adjusted himself on the pillows to get a better view. He could see the layout of Negan’s own hard cock, running down his left leg, confined in his jeans. He chewed his bottom lip and raked his nails up and down his chest and stomach, watching, as Negan slowly unzipped his jeans and pushed them down his hips. Rick’s pinky toe wasn’t the only thing throbbing now.

 

Negan left his boxer briefs on and chuckled at Rick’s obvious disappointment. He wanted to see _all_ of him.

 

He thought his heart would pound right out of his chest watching Negan knee-walk toward him on the bed. Want and desire in his eyes.

 

Rick was _definitely_ turned on. But he was also nervous. Sex was anything but satisfying with Shane. He did feel _some_ pleasure from time to time, but it was most likely accidental. His body was mainly just a gadget for _Shane’s_ sexual needs.

 

“You're absolutely sure you want to do this, Rick?” Negan asked, an abundance of seriousness in his voice.

 

Rick nodded briskly.

 

“No,” Negan said. “I've got to _hear_ your answer. I don't want you to do something you're gonna regret afterwards.”

 

“I'm sure, Negan. I'm just…Shane, he— ”

 

“Nope,” Negan stopped him. “Nope. Don't you dare say that name.”

 

“I'm sorry. He just never let me— ”

 

“No, Rick.” Negan's voice was firm. “ _He_ nothing. He's not here. He's gone. He’s not coming back. And _I'm_ _not him_. Okay?”

 

Rick nodded.

 

“You want this? I need to hear it.”

 

“I want it, Negan.” he whispered. “I want it more than anything.”

 

Negan nodded and lowered his body down, engulfing his soon-to-be lover.

 

Negan took possession of Rick’s mouth, declaring it his. The kisses were soft at first, but a fervid, urgent need was soon taking over. Rick’s hands were seeking. Rubbing and scratching over every inch of skin he could reach. Hands roaming up and down Negan’s back. His sides. His arms. Fingers digging through his hair and scratching his scalp. Rick was so lost. Lost in a passion that he knew he had never had before, and would never be able to get enough of.

 

He rejected the idea of their bodies being separated another second by the fabric of Negan’s briefs. He pushed them down with his hands just enough to free his erection. The moment their skin collided, both men began to moan.

 

They rolled, flipping their positions. With Rick on top, Negan’s mouth found his neck at the same time his hands found his ass. Massaging and kneading. Spreading him apart and pushing him back together. Fingertips dancing along the crack of his ass.

 

Rick groaned, biting down on Negan’s bottom lip.

 

Negan found his entrance, brushing over it with the pad of his middle finger. His cavity fluttering in response.

 

He muttered a string of profanities into Negan's open mouth, in between deep, wet kisses. He bucked against his cock with his own. Hips thrusting and back arching, as Negan rubbed circles around his tight opening.

 

“Nobody's ever played with this ass like this before, have they?” Negan asked, already knowing the answer.

 

“No,” he panted.

 

“I bet no one's ever tasted it either.”

 

His eyes went dark. It was something he had always wanted to experience, even with Lori, but was always denied. He shook his head.

 

“Slide up here,” Negan said, pulling him by the legs. “Sit.” He tapped on his upper chest, guiding Rick's legs and arms into place until he was in a crab-walk position.

 

“God _damn_ ," Negan growled. “ _Look_ at _that_. I knew it would be perfect. Prettiest little ass I’ve ever seen.”

 

Licking his lips, he leaned in, circling his tight, pulsing ring with his tongue once and _that_ — _was_ — _it_.

 

Rick fell backwards, collapsing on top of Negan's legs. The back of his head bouncing against his cock. Hands gripping under his knees, holding on for dear life. He gave himself over completely.

 

His body trembled. Mouth open wide with a near constant whine escaping him. Precome dripping and merging with the sweat covering Rick's stomach.

 

He worked his hips, grinding in a circular motion against Negan's mouth.

 

“Don't stop. Fuck. Don't stop.”

 

After a few minutes, he flipped Rick over on his back and got off the bed. An immediate sense of shock and disbelief on Rick's face.

 

Shane never waited for Rick to orgasm during sex. He assumed, for a moment, that it was the case this time, too. Until Negan returned with a smile, and a small bottle.

 

He watched Negan's hand work as he slicked himself.

 

“I'm trying to figure out how I wanna do this.” He rubbed Rick's entrance with his slippery fingers. “You wanna ride or do you want me to fuck you? I just wanna see that face.”

 

“Fuck me.” Rick held his hands out, reaching for him. “I want you to fuck me.”

 

His eyes slammed shut as their bodies joined.

 

Negan spoke to him as he began to move.

 

“I want those blue eyes on _me,_ Rick. No thinking about anyone or anywhere else but right here, right now. This is just you and me.”

 

Their eyes locked.

 

The pleasure he was feeling right now, this was no accident.

 

“You’re so beautiful, Rick.” Negan said, not breaking eye contact. “Perfect in every way.”

 

Rick’s eyes filled with tears as their bodies moved in unison. Realizing how deeply they were connected in this moment. Just he and Negan. No one else. No Shane. No ghosts. No voices. Just two lovers. Eye to eye. Man to man. Heart to heart.

 

Negan leaned in and kissed away a tear that had managed to escape. “Are you with me, baby?”

 

Rick’s arms pulled him closer. “I’m here. Here with you. _Only_ you.”

 

His tears continued to flow, but a genuine smile spread across his face, joining them. Negan made him _feel_ so much. Emotionally _and_ physically.

 

Negan's heart melted, looking at that smile and those eyes, twinkling with tears.

 

They joined hands as Negan's thrusts grew deeper and faster. Fingers intertwined, clasping tight.

 

“Negan!” Rick gasped, as the muscular tension hit his groin. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” he cried out, with every contraction that ripped through his body. Rope after rope of his climax coating his chest and stomach. Negan withdrew and finished on Rick’s stomach, both of them crying now, and smiling. “Thank _you_ , Blue Eyes,” Negan whispered.

 

Rick protested as Negan got up and went into the bathroom.

 

“Gotta clean you up, sweetheart,” Negan said, holding a package of Judith’s baby wipes.

 

With Rick clean and the bed turned down, they curled up together. Rick lying in Negan’s arms with his head on his chest.

 

“I've never… ” he released a long yawn. “Never felt anything like that before.”

 

Negan was rubbing Rick’s back in large circles, making his eyelids even heavier. “It was pretty fuckin’ amazing. I knew it would be.”

 

“Negan.” Rick’s voice was heavy with sleep.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“My toe hurts.”

 

Negan started shaking with a deep, loud laugh, shaking Rick in his arms. “Well, Blue Eyes, I’m gonna have to get your ass a pain pill. I just don’t have enough energy left in me to kiss your fuckin’ toe again tonight.”

 

Rick didn’t laugh at Negan’s witty response. Didn’t even crack a smile. He was gone. Sleeping peacefully, wrapped up warm and tight. Safe in his boyfriend’s arms.

 

_I’m so in love with you, Rick Grimes._

 

***

  

Rick opened one eye to a sharp pain in his toe.  “What are you…? Why are you trying to kill me? I’m sleeping.”

 

“Hold still, baby,” Negan said.

 

Rick stretched himself twice, grunting and yawning.

 

“Rick! Hold the fuck still. I’m almost finished.”

 

“You’re hurting me.”

 

“There,” Negan said, standing. He was still naked. “How’s that feel?”

 

“Weird,” Rick answered, holding his foot in the air and examining his white-taped toes. “Looks weird, too.”

 

“God,” Negan said, rolling his eyes. “I was trying to help you, Blue Eyes. Wasn’t even gonna charge you for it either.”

 

“I want ice cream,” Rick said, stretching again.

 

“Ice cream?” Negan looked at the clock. “It’s 9:46 in the motherfuckin’ morning, Rick. And you literally just opened your eyes.”

 

“Oh.” Rick said. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware there was a law stating there was a certain time of day one could and could not eat ice cream. You’d think I’d have heard about that one, being a police officer and all.”

 

Negan laughed. “ _Je_ -he-sus. You’re feisty as hell after a good fuck, aren’t you?”

 

“No. I just wanted some ice cream.”

 

“We don’t have any.” Negan said. “I looked for some last night. Want me to make you some eggs? Maybe some toast and juice?”

 

“Okay,” Rick said after some hesitation. “But I still want ice cream.”

 

 

***

 

 

“Okay,” Negan sighed, looking over the items already in the shopping cart. “What else we need?”

 

Rick couldn’t help but smile every time Negan said _we_. “Just the ice cream, I guess.”

 

“You’re a vanilla guy, right?”

 

“Right,” Rick replied. “I hate strawberry. Chocolate is okay and I don’t really like the kind with different shit mixed in. But I _hate_ strawberry.”

 

Rick put several pints of vanilla in the cart and some cookies and cream for Carl. “What kind you want?”

 

“I’m a chocolate guy.”

 

With their list completed, Negan hopped up on the back of the cart and pushed off with his foot. He rode down the aisle about six feet before crashing into someone.

 

“Oh shi… shoot. S’cuse _me_ , ma’am. I’m sorry about that.”

 

Rick looked up. He felt his blood run ice cold. He couldn’t believe who he was looking at. The lady looked pissed. Like she could have carved Negan’s liver with her icy stare alone. Then her eyes turned to Rick. She studied him a moment.

 

“Rick?” she asked, taking a step closer. When she was certain it was him, she drew back and slapped him so hard, he stumbled sideways. She was crying.

 

Rick stood there, mouth agape and hand held up to his stinging cheek.

 

“Hey lady!” Negan shouted, looking like he was ready to tackle her himself. “What the fuck is your goddamn deal? I’m the one that fuckin’ crashed into you!”

 

“You son of a bitch!” the lady cried. “You’re walking around free after you took my son from me! My Shane! You killed my baby!”

 

Rick couldn’t speak. He felt paralysed. At least a dozen onlookers had gathered around.

 

“You should be in prison!” she continued. “You’re a cold-blooded killer and you got away with it!”

 

Rick finally found the power to make his legs work. He kept his head down as he ran out of the store, still being berated by Shane’s mother.

 

Mrs. Walsh turned to Negan once Rick was out of sight. The look on her face said she wanted to slap him, too. Negan wasn’t intimidated. He stepped into her personal space, pulling out his cell phone.

 

“Look _lady_ ,” he said, swiping through the photos in his gallery. “You seem to be mighty fuckin’ misinformed about some shit here. Allow _me_ to set your ass straight. Rick Grimes, he’s a good man. A good man, that _your son_ abused for who the fuck knows how long. If Rick hadn’t killed him, I fuckin’ would have.”

 

He found the picture he was looking for.

 

“This!” He held the picture he had taken of Rick at the hospital up to her face. “This is what kind of _man_ your son was! He did this to Rick! You have no fuckin’ idea the amount of suffering he and his children have endured at the hands of your son! Beatings! Torture! Humiliation! Threats to his baby daughter’s life! Hitting his teenage son! No mother should ever lose their child. But this world? It’s a much better place now without yours in it!”

 

He turned his cart around and walked back to the ice cream freezer. He scanned the pints until he saw what he was looking for. He reached in and took one out before heading to the checkout. Shane’s mother still standing where he had left her.

 

Rick was curled up against the passenger side door, staring out the window. Negan rubbed his back and started the car.

 

***

 

He put the groceries away and found Rick lying on the couch, facing the cushions. He sat down on the other end with a container of ice cream and a spoon.

 

“C’mere, baby.”

 

Rick slowly sat up and turned around, settling between Negan’s legs and resting his head on his chest. Negan wrapped one arm around him and gently placed the cardboard ice cream container against the still-visible, raised handprint on his cheek.

 

“It’s never gonna be over, is it?” Rick asked. “I’m never gonna be allowed to forget. He’ll never really be gone.”

 

Negan sighed. “That’s up to you, Blue Eyes. You can either decide to say _fuck it_ and move on, or decide to let people, like that bitch that slapped you, keep reminding you. You have to choose to ignore shit like that _or_ let it get to you. It’s always gonna be there, baby. But it’s up to you to decide what to do with it when it shows up.”

 

“Sit up,” Negan said. “Let’s have some fuckin’ ice cream before the kids get back.”

 

He put a spoonful in his mouth. Rick instantly pulled a face and gagged.

 

“I _told you,_ I hate strawberry. _Vanilla_. I bought vanilla.”

 

Negan smiled. “Rick. This Neapolitan ice cream has vanilla right here. You hate strawberry. You can still have the vanilla and be happy. You just ignore the strawberry.”

 

Rick looked up at Negan with narrow eyes.

 

“This strawberry ice cream right here, this is Shane. You, darlin’, you’re the vanilla. Are you gonna throw away the entire thing just because it has a little strawberry in it?”

 

Rick looked him in the eyes and shook his head.

 

Negan put a bite of vanilla in Rick’s mouth. “That good?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Yeah. Tastes good, right? And you can’t even tell the strawberry is in there, can you?”

 

“No.” Rick answered, licking his lips.

 

Negan took a spoonful of chocolate and put it in his mouth next. “The chocolate ice cream is me, Rick. I’m right there beside you. Doing my best to keep the strawberry where he belongs.

 

Negan kissed the handprint on his face. “Just forget the strawberry is there.”

 

Next, he scooped up a little strawberry with a spoonful of chocolate. “Taste this.”

 

Rick hesitated but finally accepted it.

 

“Can you taste the strawberry?”

 

Rick rolled it around and around on his tongue. “No. Only chocolate.”

 

“Right.” Negan said. “The good overpowers the bad.”

 

Rick was awestruck. He wondered where this huge man-child kept his wisdom hidden.

 

Negan took his time and created the perfect bite of equal parts chocolate and vanilla. “Now taste this.”

 

Rick opened his mouth. He could taste both flavors. One enhancing the other. “It's good. It's better than good.”

 

“Exactly.” Negan said. “Chocolate and vanilla are always better… _together_. One makes the other stronger.”

 

He put another spoonful in his mouth. “Forget about the strawberry, and learn to love the chocolate.”

 

Rick looked deep into his eyes.

 

_I think I already do._


	15. Chapter 15

Song mentioned: Never Thought (That I Could Love) by Dan Hill

 

 

 

 

Rick and Lucille were curled up on Negan’s lap. Rick had just dozed off as Negan’s siren text notification went off.

 

“Shit,” Negan whispered, shushing after Rick practically jumped off of him and Lucille scrambled into the next room. “I didn't know you were _both_ cat-napping.”

 

“Who was that?”

 

“It’s nobody,” Negan answered.

 

Rick turned to look up at him. “Is that a nice way of saying ‘none of your damn business’?”

 

“No,” Negan laughed. “It was just Simon. He invited me to go out with some friends tonight. I’m gonna tell him no.”

 

“Why?”

 

Negan ran his fingers through Rick’s hair. “I’d rather stay home with you. Your toe might hurt you later. I have to be here to _kiss_ it.”

 

“I’m not gonna burst into tears just because you wanna go hang out with your friends, Negan. I’ll be fine.”

 

“ _Or_ ,” Negan said. “We could see if Maggie wants to keep Judith again and you could go _with me_?”

 

Rick turned in his lap so he was facing him. “I dunno. I kinda hate to do that to Glenn and Maggie.”

 

“C’mon. You’re going back to work next week. Live a little. We’d be riding.”

 

“Riding?” Rick asked.

 

“Fuckin’ motorcycles, baby.”

 

Rick hopped up on his knees. “You have a motorcycle?”

 

“She’s parked in my garage right now.”

 

The thought of Negan on a motorcycle had Rick excited. “Where would we be going?”

 

“Well, we would ride for a while, as a group, then head to the tavern. Pool, darts, ping pong, drinks and food, karaoke. You fuckin’ name it.”

 

Rick smiled. “Well there's no way I'm doing karaoke, but I can probably beat your ass until it shines at pool or ping pong. Just saying,” he shrugged.

 

“That uh… that sounds a little bit like a bet to me, Blue Eyes.”

 

“Okay,” Rick said. “What did you have in mind?”

 

Negan leaned back and cracked his knuckles. “If I win, _and I will_ , you have to sing karaoke tonight. And make my cowboy fantasy… a reality.”

 

Rick raised his eyebrows. “Okay. And if I win, you have to wear a thong to work all next week. Plus rub my feet… _for an entire hour_.”

 

Negan growled and pulled him into his lap, sliding his hands down into the back of his pants. “You and your goddamn kinky feet.”

 

He watched Rick lick his lips and glance down at his, making his heartbeat quicken. Using the hands on his ass, he rocked Rick forward and claimed his mouth in a long, leisurely kiss.

 

“It’s a bet. Now let's go get my fuckin’ bike.”

 

 

***

 

 

Rick watched Negan out in front of him as he rode his Harley back to his house. He swore, the instant he put his ass on that seat, he became ten times hotter. Negan pulled his phone out at a red light.

 

 

**Negan: Follow me**

**Negan: Gotta get you a helmet**

 

 

“ _This_ is the _one_ , baby.” Negan said. Rick had tried on over a dozen helmets before Negan was satisfied with the fit.

 

“Wait here. I gotta make a pit stop before we head out.”

 

Rick looked around while Negan was in the bathroom. He found himself surrounded by leather jackets. He touched them, even smelled a few, inhaling deeply.

 

_Smells like Negan._

 

He couldn’t help himself when he saw the _exact_ jacket that Negan wore. Finding one in his size, he slipped it on. He _had_ to find a mirror.

 

_Holy shit!_

_I’m a fuckin’ Rock Star!_

 

He felt so powerful and... sexy.

 

_Sexy?_

 

Yes. He felt sexy.

 

He heard a long, low whistle behind him. He looked up and saw Negan’s reflection in the mirror. Rick watched him as he got closer.

 

“Rick _Motherfuckin_ ’ Grimes.” Negan turned him around to face him, looking him over.

 

“Do you think…” Rick stopped himself. “ _I_ think I look good.”

 

Negan smiled widely at Rick's confidence. “I _know_ you do, baby. I know you do.”

 

“I’m gonna get it,” Rick said swiftly. He rarely bought things on impulse, but this jacket was calling his name. “Would it bother you if we had the same jacket?”

 

“Hell no!” Negan said. “But you still need one thing.”

 

He pulled Rick by the hand to a display of scarves. Rick went in for a red one to match Negan's.

 

“I like that blue one,” Negan suggested. “It would bring out those baby blues.”

 

He opened the jacket up and wrapped the scarf around his neck. He tugged and tweaked until it laid just right.

 

“There.” Negan stepped back and tilted his head, admiring for a minute. “So fuckin' beautiful. What do you think?”

 

“I love it,” Rick said, looking at himself in the mirror. “You don’t think it’s _too_ out of my element?”

 

“I think it’s _way_ out of your element. That’s what makes it so fuckin’ hot.” Negan leaned in and put his lips against Rick’s ear and whispered. “I could lay you down right here and fuck you into the goddamn floor, Blue Eyes.”

 

Negan pulled his phone out and snapped a picture of the two of them, cheek-to-cheek. Rick smiled at the image, but that smile fell off his face quickly when he noticed a pair of older, motorcycle toughs alternating disgusted looks between themselves and the two of them. Then he overheard a few homophobic slurs. The fight or flight in him had him attempting to hide behind Negan’s larger frame.

 

Negan looked up and registered what was happening. “Rick, don’t hide from that bullshit. Look at yourself right now. You’re a total badass. Either ignore it, or face the ignorant motherfuckers.”

 

Rick sighed. “Let’s just go.”

 

As they walked past the two bikers, Rick observed their judgmental eyeing. The more he thought about it, the more it pissed him off. He stopped and stepped into their personal space. “Hey,” he whispered. “Noticed y’all giving us some pretty serious stink eye over there. It’s okay. I get it. I’d be jealous of me, too.”

 

One of the older men scoffed. “And just why in the hell would I be jealous of a backdoor bandit like you?” Both men shared a laugh.

 

Rick took Negan's hand. “Well because. In the time it would take the two of you to get the dust brushed off your dicks, this man would’ve already made me come twice… _dick untouched_. Yeah. _Boom.”_

 

Negan threw his head back with a rambunctious laugh and slipped a hand into Rick’s back pocket as they strode toward the front of the store. “That’s my _boy_!”

 

 

Negan shot Simon a text in the parking lot.

 

**Negan: I’m in.**

**Simon: Fuck yeah!**

**Simon: Meet us at the usual?**

**Negan: You bet.**

**Negan: Cool if I bring a friend?**

**Simon: Hell yeah.**

**Simon: He ride?**

**Negan: He’s riding tonight.**

 

He attached the picture he had just taken with Rick. Simon didn't recognize him without his beard and curls.

 

**Simon: Well I see what you'll be riding.**

 

 

 

***

 

 

“Are you sure we’ll both fit on there?” Rick asked, looking anxiously at the motorcycle seat.

 

“Sure. You just gotta hold onto me _real_ tight.”

 

Rick was suddenly overcome with fear. He was picturing himself falling off and splattering all over the highway. “Maybe this isn't such a good idea.”

 

Carl and Sophia were standing outside watching, waiting for them to ride away. Negan wanted pictures.

 

“You are not flaking out on me! You'll be fine. I won't go fast.”

 

“Promise?” Rick was pale and looked like he was ready to vomit.

 

“Scout’s honor,” Negan said, holding up three fingers.

 

They put on their helmets and Negan climbed on first. He inserted the key, flipped a few switches and the engine fired with thunderous retort. “Hop on, baby!”

 

Rick swallowed the lump in his throat and straddled the bike, wrapping his arms tightly around him. “I trust you, Negan,” he said, squeezing him tight with his thighs.

 

And they were off. The machine was shuddering underneath them. It was so relaxing. Then, they pulled onto the highway.

 

_Oh fuck!_

 

It was exhilarating and freeing, yet dangerous. Turning, leaning and accelerating. Between the adrenaline from the ride and the rumbling vibrations in his groin, it was almost sexual.

 

“Faster!” Rick shouted, pounding on Negan’s chest. “Faster!”

 

Negan felt Rick let go of his waist. He stretched his arms out wide. He was flying.

 

 

***

 

 

They pulled into a parking lot that had half a dozen or so other bikes parked side-by-side with a group of leather-clad people standing around.

 

“That was incredible, Negan!” Rick said, still high on adrenaline. “I can still feel it between my legs.”

 

Negan licked his fingers and fixed Rick’s helmet hair. “ _Almost_ as good as sex, right?” He winked before taking Rick's hand in his, walking to meet up with his friends.

 

Simon met Negan with a handshake and a hug. “Glad to see you got rid of that needy police officer and upgraded to someone more your type.” Everyone laughed but the two men standing hand-in-hand.

 

Rick stood there, feeling sucker-punched. Negan felt him try to pull away. He tightened his grip on his hand, holding him firmly in place.

 

“Simon,” Negan said, strongly. “This _is_ Rick. Same guy. And you’re a fuckin’ idiot.”

 

The look on Simon’s face said it all. He was beyond embarrassed.

 

“Well would you look at that,” Simon said, holding his foot up. “I can’t figure out how I did it, but I did. I managed to fit the whole goddamn thing in my mouth all at once.”

 

“Yes, Simon,” Negan laughed. “You most certainly motherfuckin’ did.”

 

Rick was the only one not laughing.

 

Negan took the time to introduce Rick to all of his friends.

 

“Rick, this is Dwight, Gavin, Arat, Sherry, Jared, and of course you know Simon.” Rick did his best to appear cordial. “Guys, this is my boyfriend, Rick. Isn’t he gorgeous?”

 

There was an awkward silence before Negan broke through it. “Let’s go hit the fuckin’ Chattahoochee Hills!”

 

 

***

 

 

Rick held onto Negan mindlessly as he watched the scenery slip by. He felt as if he were drifting now, instead of flying. The magic was gone. Simon’s words were still replaying in his head, sucking the enjoyment out of the ride. He knew he should just brush it off. Why the hell should Simon’s opinion of him matter so much anyway? But it did. He _couldn’t_ shake it off. Depression was sinking in. Negan’s own best friend didn’t think he was right for him.

 

_Am I?_

 

He looked up and noticed how the sky was now tie-dyed with purples, oranges and yellows as the sun went down. All he wanted to do was go home and go to bed, but the ride was only half of tonight’s excursion. He still had to endure the tavern… with Simon.

 

Negan noticed Rick’s definite lack of enthusiasm that he had displayed excitedly after their first ride. He also noticed the dispirited look in his eyes. He _knew_ what was bothering him. Upon entering the tavern, he pulled Rick into the bathroom.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Yes.” Rick answered, flatly.

 

“You’re lying, Rick.”

 

He stared at the floor and shrugged.

 

Negan sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Look, he didn’t mean it like—”

 

“I heard him, Negan. I’m not stupid. I might be _needy_ , but I’m not stupid.”

 

“I never said you were.”

 

“The fact that he called me needy isn’t what’s bothering me. It was that he suggested I wasn’t right for you. Shit.” Rick wiped away a single tear before it had the chance to fall. “I’m trying my best to harden up here, but that hurt, Negan. That fuckin’ hurt _real_ bad. I wanted you to want me for _me_. Not just because you felt sorry for me. God, maybe he’s right.”

 

“Stop it, Rick! Stop it right the fuck now!”

 

Rick, feeling scolded, turned to face the wall.

 

“I do want you for _you_! I’ve wanted you since you first opened your eyes and looked at me, bleeding in your kitchen floor. I went through your fuckin’ phone while you were sleeping in a hospital bed and stole your goddamn pictures. Thought it was all I’d ever have to remember you by. That first night you crawled into my bed, fuck, I knew _then_ you were the one. You _are_ my type, Blue Eyes. Simon’s big mouth doesn’t decide my type. I do. You’re the most incredible man I’ve ever met in my life. I’ve _never_ cried during sex before. But with you, I couldn’t fuckin’ help it. You do things to me Rick. You make me _feel_ again. I… ”

 

Negan paused.

 

“I’m in love with you, Rick.”

 

Rick whipped his head around and looked at him in disbelief. “What’d you say?”

 

“You fuckin’ heard me.”

 

Rick walked up to him and placed his forehead against his chest. “Why would you love _me_?”

 

“Because you’re you, Rick. And because I’ve waited my whole life to love you. I love your smile, your laugh and your voice. I love your body. I love how your blue eyes take my breath away every time I look in them. I love the way you hold me so tight at night, like there’s no fuckin’ tomorrow. I love that yours is the last voice I hear before I fall asleep. I love your kids. I love that you love my mean ass cat. Hell, I can’t think of anything I _don’t_ love about you.”

 

His answer must have set right with Rick. All he wanted in that moment were Negan’s strong arms wrapped around him. To feel the neverending warmth that they provided. “Never stop, okay?” Rick said, muffled against his chest.

 

“Not on your life, Blue Eyes.” Negan squeezed him tighter, lifting him off the ground. “Now let’s go so I can whip that ass at ping pong.”

 

 

***

 

 

“Best four out of seven!” Rick shouted.

 

Negan had beaten him at ping pong. It was a close game. Negan - eleven, Rick - nine.

 

“No fuckin’ way!” Negan challenged. “It's best three out of five and I won! Yeehaw! Ride ‘em, cowboy!”

 

“You don’t really mean to make me own up to that bet, do you?” Rick asked, half-smiling.

 

Negan licked his lips hungrily, catching his tongue between his teeth. “I sure as shit do, baby. _You_ lost. Your ass is gonna be sitting pretty in the saddle. And I have _every_ intention of fucking that basic vanilla right outta you tonight… right after your singing debut.

 

 

***

 

 

Rick sat alone at a table, sipping a Blood Orange Old Fashioned, watching Negan play a game of pool with Simon. He didn't even bother to hide his smile.

 

That smile turned into laughter when Negan caught him staring and made a vulgar suggestion with his pool cue.

 

_That man loves me._

 

That dark hair and hazel eyes. His salt and pepper beard and irresistible smile. And those damn dimples. It wasn’t just his looks that caused Rick to have the warm feeling that was spreading through his chest right now. He was so damned hypnotic. Everything about him was mesmerizing. The way he walked, the way he talked, the way he dressed. His sense of humor. Head to toe. Inside and out. Negan was a work of art.

 

Rick laughed to himself, thinking about how he had _purposely_ thrown the game of ping pong earlier, letting Negan have his victory. He could have easily beaten him. But that's a secret he would keep.

 

 

***

 

 

“Why are your hands so sweaty?” Negan asked, joining Rick at the table.

 

His anxiety had started to kick in. “Cause I'm scared, Negan. Don't make me do this. Not in front of all these people.”

 

Negan took his sweaty hand back. “I'm not _making_ you. You lost a bet. And you _can_ do it. I've got a hunch that you're gonna rock this fuckin' place.”

 

When it was his turn, Rick took his place on stage. He took a deep, shaky breath.

 

Negan and his friends were cheering him on, whooping with fists in the air. They had all placed bets as to which kick-ass ‘80s movie soundtrack hit Rick would perform, when a subdued piano intro started playing. Negan tilted his head as everyone grew quiet. Rick trained his eyes on him and him alone. There wasn't anyone else in the room in that moment.

 

 

_Can I touch you?_

_I can't believe that you are real_

_How did I ever find you?_

_You are the dream that saved my life_

_You are the reason I survived_

_Baby…_

 

Negan's throat was suddenly tight and _his_ hands were now shaking and wet with sweat. He was singing this song to _him._

 

_I never thought that I could love_

_Someone as much as I love you_

_I know it's crazy but it's true_

_I never thought that I could need_

_Someone as much as I need you_

_I love you…_

 

 

As hard as he tried, Negan found it impossible to hold back the tears. They were free-flowing down his face. Right in front of everyone. He knew Simon was watching him across the room, too. But he couldn’t stop them.

 

 

_Can I hold you?_

_Boy your smile lights up the sky_

_You are too beautiful for the human eye_

_You are the dream that never dies_

_You are the fire that burns inside_

_Baby..._

 

_I never thought that I could love_

_Someone as much as I love you_

_I know it's crazy but it's true_

 

_Ohhh…_

 

_I never thought that I could need_

_Someone as much as I need you_

 

_Oooh..._

 

_You are the sunshine in the sky_

_You are the sparkle in my eyes_

 

_Ohhh..._

 

_I never thought that I could love_

_Someone as much as I love you_

_I know it's crazy but it's true_

_Never thought that I could need_

_Someone as much as I need you_

 

_I love you._

 

 

 

Rick stepped off the stage, ignoring the applause from the audience, and ran straight into the arms of a crying Negan.

 

“Guess I was wrong about Officer Friendly,”  Simon said, looking at Arat. She agreed with a nod and wiped away a tear of her own.

 

Rick wiped Negan's face and neck dry with his hands. His dark gray t-shirt was sprinkled with tears.

 

“Say it again, Rick. Just… I need you to fuckin’ say it one more time. So I know it’s real”

 

“I love you,” Rick whispered in his ear.

 

Negan swallowed him in a full-body embrace. “I love you, too.”

 

Rick looked up, eyes glittered with desire. “Take me home and _show me_.”


	16. Chapter 16

“Get your jacket and helmet,” Negan said, swiftly dragging Rick through the tavern. “I’ll tell Simon we’re leaving.” There was an urgency in his voice.

 

Rick held onto Negan as closely as the two layers of leather between them permitted. He rested his helmeted head against Negan’s back. He was desperate for some form of skin contact. Leather be damned, his hands found their way under his t-shirt, fingers strumming through pillows of soft, dark hair. The hardness between his legs was almost unbearable. The vibrations of the bike under him were of no help. Negan, feeling the rigid state of Rick’s sex pressing against his back, took every shortcut he could.

 

Rick got the garage door open as soon as the first raindrops started to fall.

 

They entered the house from the garage. Negan wasted no time in pressing Rick against the wall, kissing him desperately, palming and cupping him through his jeans.

 

Both leather jackets now lay forsaken in the floor beneath their feet. Negan pulled Rick’s shirt off and pinned his arms against the wall. “Goddamn,” he growled. “Your nipples are so fuckin’ hard they could cut through glass.” He flicked his tongue against one of the erect nubs before sucking it into his mouth, earning a loud moan from Rick.

 

“Maybe we should… _go_ ,” a young female voice called out from behind them.

 

“Oh shit,” Rick gasped.

 

“Son of a _motherfucker_ ,” Negan cursed under his breath.

 

They were so heated, they failed to notice Carl and Sophia sitting in the living room, eating pizza and watching TV. They looked _almost_ as mortified as Rick, who was using both hands to cover his bulging crotch.

 

“Let’s go to my house,” Sophia suggested.

 

Rick sighed. “You don't have to —”

 

“A couple hours would be fuckin’ peachy,” Negan interrupted.

 

Carl grabbed their pizza as he fled out the door with Sophia, refusing to make eye contact with his father.

 

Negan moved in to kiss Rick. He put his hands up, stopping him.

 

“Wait.”

 

Waiting was the last thing on Negan's mind right now.

 

“Let's do this right,” Rick continued. ”Give me ten minutes, then meet me up in the bedroom.”

 

Negan exhaled heavily. “Ten minutes. And I'm fucking’ counting, Blue Eyes.”

 

Rick undressed quickly and showered, making sure he washed his most intimate areas well. Before leaving the bathroom, he bent down and pulled the belt out of the his jeans he had left in the floor. He ran into Carl's room and grabbed his laptop.

 

Negan paced the floor, watching the clock.

 

Six minutes to go.

 

He picked up the two matching jackets in the floor, draping them side-by-side over the kitchen chairs. Holding Rick's blue scarf up to his face, he inhaled his scent. He had such a natural smell. Like freshly raked Autumn leaves and just a hint of sweat. He breathed him in again.

 

It's been 8 and a half minutes.

 

 _Close enough_.

 

Negan made his way up the stairs, taking two at a time. He sighed when he found the bedroom door closed. He feared Rick had locked himself in after being humiliated in front of Carl and Sophia. He pressed his ear against it and listened.

 

_What the fuck?_

 

He turned the knob. It was unlocked. He pushed the door open slightly. The darkened room flickered with an orange glow. He could hear the crackling of logs in a fire and nature's song of nighttime crickets and tree frogs.

 

Rick had created the perfect campfire ambiance, via YouTube.

 

He pushed the door open a little further. The curtains were blowing softly. The smell of rain and the cool October air hitting his nose.

 

He could see a pair of bare feet laying crossed on the bed, toes curling and stretching. Leaning in a little further, there was a set of long, sexy legs. Above that, left in a spectacular display, was his flawless, naked ass.

 

Resting above that, was a brown leather belt, circling and accentuating his nude hips. His eyes traveled up his bare back. Muscles rippling and bulging from the weight of his upper body being supported by his elbow.

 

Negan had to remind himself to breathe when he saw it. There, sitting atop a nest of brown, wavy hair, was the cowboy hat. He groaned in his throat causing Rick to turn his head in his direction.

 

The virtual campfire, displayed on the laptop, cast a picture perfect show of dancing shadows on Rick’s strong profile.

 

Negan walked to the other side of the bed. The frontal view of the beautiful cowboy resting on his side, was equally as beautiful as the back. Strong muscular thighs and a sexy flat stomach. His handsome cock, standing tall and proud. Hard, sensitive nipples just begging for attention. Pink, pouty lips, sweeter than warm maple syrup. And those blue bedroom eyes, looking up at him so indecently from underneath the brim of his hat.

 

“Howdy,” Rick said huskily.

 

“God motherfuckin’ damn.” Negan’s voice was rough and whispered. He gripped Rick’s belt and pulled him to his feet. His fingers were dancing against his naked hips. “I’ve never fucked a cowboy.”

 

Rick raised his eyebrows. “And I never rode a stallion before.” His accent was dripping with extra Southern. “Won’t be able to say that after tonight.”

 

_Stallion._

 

Negan’s breath caught in his throat.

 

Situating Rick’s arms around his neck and placing his hands under his ass, he spread his legs and lifted him, wrapping them around his waist. Rick leaned in to kiss him, he could taste and smell the whiskey still present on his tongue and breath.

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Negan breathed. “You even _taste_ like a cowboy.”

 

Negan ran his middle finger up and down the length of his ass crack, occasionally brushing over his fluttering ring.

 

Rick shuddered at the contact, sucking air in between his teeth.

 

Negan growled, giving his cheeks a firm squeeze. “You ready to take that ride?”

 

“What’s it look like?” Rick bucked his hips against him. “Giddyup.”

 

_Fuck._

 

“This is the sexiest shit I’ve ever seen, Blue Eyes.”

 

Negan dropped him on the bed and slowly peeled off his shirt. Rick was on his knees, watching him through hungry, blue eyes. He kicked off his boots and discarded the rest of his clothes for his audience of one.

 

Negan looked up at Rick's hat. “Where's your badge, _Sheriff_?”

 

“I'm not a sheriff tonight, I'm a cowboy. _Your_ cowboy. Now lay down. I gotta grease my saddle before I ride.”

 

_God, I hope he never stops talking like that._

 

Negan stretched out on his back, not taking his eyes off his cowboy. He reached over the edge of the bed and pulled Negan’s belt out his jeans, placing it under his back and buckling it loose.

 

He poured some lube into his hand and stroked Negan’s length until he shined. Leaning back, allowing Negan a better view, Rick slid two wet fingers inside himself, biting his bottom lip as he coated his opening and slicked his inner walls, moaning softly as he pumped.

 

“Fuckin’ fuck me,” Negan ordered. “Now.”

 

“Easy now,” Rick cooed softly, rubbing and patting his thighs. “Easy.”

 

_Shit!_

 

Rick aligned their bodies and sank down, slowly swallowing his lover. Inch by inch, Negan watched his cock disappear inside him. He hissed and bucked his hips up, desperate for friction.

 

“Whoa.” Rick said, his deep voice vibrating in his throat. “Whoa, boy.” He needed a moment for his body to accept and get used to the taxing stretch on his muscles.

 

“You’re gonna make me come right the fuck now if you keep talking to me like that, baby.”

 

Rick responded simply by tipping his hat. Negan, now _fully_ remembering why he had a fucking cowboy fantasy to begin with.

 

_God damn._

 

Taking Negan's belt and using it as a makeshift rein, he made a kissing sound with his mouth and started his ride. Pumping his hips back and forth in a sinful, rodeo-style manner.

 

“Fuck.” Negan hissed, running his hands up and down his body, already wet with a thin sheen of sweat.

 

He watched him move so smoothly. His body rocking back and forth in a fluid-like wave. Rolling and dipping his hips. Eyes rolling back and disappearing under his closing lids.

 

Negan held on tight to those working hips as he watched the underside of Rick's cock continuously stroking against his abdomen.

 

Rick clicked his tongue and struck his heels against Negan’s legs as he started riding faster. Harder. “Hee-yah.”

 

_You sexy motherfucker._

 

A storm was rolling in. Thunder resonating. Lightning bolts flashing. Rain battering the ground.

 

Rick had a strong, vigorous rhythm going. The bed creaking audibly beneath them. The headboard banging loudly against the wall.

 

Between the thunderstorm raging outside and the loud masculine moans and grunts of their lovemaking, they had all but drowned out the frogs, crickets and crackling campfire.

 

A string of precome was dangling persistently from Rick’s wildly swinging cock. Negan growled, watching the way his mouth alternated between wide open and biting down hard on his bottom lip, every time he fucked himself down on his dick.

 

Negan twisted his fists around handfuls of sheets and blankets. His body being rocked forward and back. Head colliding and connecting repeatedly with the soft headboard.

 

_Where's that vanilla now, cowboy?_

 

Rick dropped his rein and pulled himself up in a split. Legs splayed out wide on both sides. Holding onto Negan’s chest, he rode him hard in a full-on gallop. Sweat dripping from his hair and nose. Wet skin slapping wet skin.

 

Negan was desperate to touch his boyfriend’s sweat-glistening, fire-glowing body. He made a bold move by lightly smacking Rick’s ass. He waited for any sign of a negative reaction. When he saw none, he delivered another pop, slightly harder this time.

 

Feeling Rick clench around him and hearing his very vocal approval of several choice profanities, he smacked him again.

 

Rick moaned and threw his head back. His ass clenched down and sucked him in with each pop. Another slap. Another. And another.

 

“Fuck!” He painted Negan’s neck with string after string of sticky white.

 

He deepened his thrusts, looking into Negan’s eyes, fucking him so hard until he could feel him tensing and flexing inside him. Hot spurt after hot spurt, coating his sensitive walls.

 

Rick collapsed on top of him, still clenching and milking his pulsing dick inside him. Negan could feel his warm lava dripping out of Rick's body as he looked up at him from under that hat. He managed to smile at his stallion through ragged breaths.

 

“Good boy,” Rick purred, as he lovingly reached up to pet him. “There's my good boy.”

  


***

  


After a much needed shower, the two of them were snuggled up together, listening to the rain, still beating steadily against the ground.

 

“I love thunderstorms,” Rick said weakly, fingers drawing mindless patterns through the hair on Negan’s chest.

 

Negan smiled, feeling eyelashes fanning slowly against his skin.

 

“I know what else you love.” He said, sliding his hand down Rick’s back, resting it against his naked bottom. “You like getting this pretty little ass smacked.”

 

Rick buried his face and laughed sheepishly against Negan's chest. “I guess I do.”

 

Negan smacked him once, feeling his cheek bounce from the impact, then giving him a squeeze. “Oh I _know_ you do. I felt it, baby.”

 

Rick yawned as they rubbed their feet and legs together in a kittenish fashion.

 

“You know I'd never hit you though?” Negan asked. “In any other way. Right?”

 

“I know.” Rick shivered at the cool air blowing in through the window.

 

“Good.” Negan pulled the blanket up over Rick's goosebump-covered flesh and held him closer. “Just need you to know that.”

 

“Negan?”

 

“Yes,”

 

“What would you do, if you did get angry with me one day?” It was a legitimate, heartfelt question.

 

“Well,” Negan said, still rubbing circles against Rick’s smooth backside. “There _will_ be days when I get angry with you. Just like there’ll be days when you get angry with me. But, if you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m pretty fuckin’ vocal. I can get loud. I may ignore you altogether or even leave the house for a while. And I’ve been known to kick a basket of laundry or punch a few walls. But I never, _ever_ hit Lucille.”

 

Rick was quiet for a bit, thinking about him being angry enough to punch a wall. While the idea did frighten him, he still felt safe in the man’s arms.

 

“Whatcha thinking about, Blue Eyes?”

 

He sighed. “You’ve had other boyfriends though, right? Before me?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“You ever hit another _man_?” Rick asked.

 

“Rick.” Negan exhaled deeply. “I _have_ hit other men. Just like you did with your handsy admirer at the bar. I’m an annoying asshole sometimes. Someone steps in my face, looking to go toe-to-toe with _me_? Damn straight I’m gonna come out swinging. I ain’t no bitch,” he laughed.

 

“But, I know what you’re really asking me here. No. I have never slapped, punched, kicked, pushed or shoved a boyfriend of mine. Okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

Negan's cell phone started vibrating against the table, nonstop.

 

“What the fuck? Five new messages from Simon?

 

**Simon: Thought you might like to have this.**

**Simon: I recorded your boy's song tonight.**

**Simon: I owe you both an apology.**

**Simon: He is your type.**

**Simon: I’m sorry. Tell Rick for me.**

 

Negan clicked on the attachment. Rick looked up, hearing the cheers from earlier tonight. He quickly slapped his hands over his ears and turned away.

 

“Oh no you don’t,” Negan snapped. “Turn around and watch this with me.”  
  
“I can’t. I can’t watch myself. I don’t wanna hear myself. Turn it off.”

 

Negan paused the video. “Why can’t you see yourself the way I do? You’re beautiful. You have a beautiful voice.”

 

Rick just shook his head, hands still covering his ears.

 

Negan pulled him over and slid his arm back under him, holding him. “We have a fuckin’ memory here, of you telling me you love me in a song. And you’re gonna watch it with me.”

 

He hit play.

 

Rick cringed as he heard himself sing the first line.

 

“ _Just_ _listen_ ,” Negan insisted.

 

_You are the dream that saved my life_

_You are the reason I survived_

 

Rick knew just how true those lyrics in particular were. Without Negan, he knew where he would be right now. He’d be lying in this room next to Shane. Probably being beaten right this very minute for breaking some sort of ridiculous rule earlier in the day. Maybe taking ten or fifteen blows from Shane’s police baton across his back and legs. Crying and suffering in silence.

 

Negan had saved him. In every way a person could possibly be saved.

 

He continued to watch the video. He noticed the smile on his face as he looked at Negan and sang. A smile that simply wasn't there before. It _had_ been there, from time to time. Like during Carl and Judith's births. The first couple of years with Lori. And during the _very_ early stages of his relationship with Shane. But he was always robbed of it.

 

He noticed the camera zoom in on Negan during the instrumental break. He was wiping away tear after tear. He looked up. Negan was doing the very same thing now. Wiping away tears.

 

Rick looked up after the song ended.

 

Negan suddenly felt embarrassed. “Don’t watch me when I’m crying.” He covered his face with his arm.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because it’s ugly.” Negan coughed, attempting to mask the sounds of his sobs. “It’s embarrassing.”

 

Rick pulled his arm away. “It’s only ugly if you’re crying _because_ of something ugly. What we have isn’t ugly. I think your tears are beautiful. It tells me that you believed those words.”

 

Negan nodded in agreement.

 

“The words of that song _are_ true,” Rick continued. “Not just bits and pieces, either. I meant every last one. I love you. After Sha— after what I went through, I never thought I’d get to say those words to someone else and mean ‘em. I was forced to say it before. But I didn’t. All I knew was hate. And fear. And pain. Thank you. Thank you for changing that. For finding me. For saving me. Thank you for taking care of me. Allowing me to live again. Thank you for loving me. And for showing _me_ how to love.”

 

Negan cried. Openly and unashamed.

  
  
  
  
  



	17. Chapter 17

“Rick!” Negan called from downstairs. “You better hustle if you want cinnamon rolls! These kids are insane!” 

 

He threw on a shirt and wobbled his way into a pair of sleep pants, hissing as he lifted each leg, making a mental note to stretch before his next _ rodeo.  _

 

Carl and Sophia were eating at the bar. Judith, or what appeared to be Judith under all of the icing, was happily perched in her high chair, munching away. 

 

“Mornin’.”

 

Negan noticed the span of Rick’s thighs and the limp he was attempting to hide as soon as he entered the kitchen. It was all he could do to keep a straight face. 

 

“Good morning, Rick.” Negan ran his tongue along his lower lip. “You look hungry enough to eat a  _ horse _ this morning.”

 

Rick was doing his best to stifle a laugh. “Shut up.”

 

As he plated a couple cinnamon rolls, Negan started singing.

 

_ “I’m a cowboy. On a steel horse I ride. _ ”

 

Rick covered his mouth and bit the inside of his cheek. 

 

“Oh you don’t like Bon Jovi?” Negan asked, handing him his plate and a cup of coffee. “I know a better song.  _ Save a horse, ride a cowboy!” _

 

Rick was quickly losing this battle as his lips started to quiver and the corners of his eyes wrinkled. “ _ Shut up,”   _ he mouthed. 

 

“I have one more,” Negan said. “See if this one does it for you.  _ My saddle’s… waiting. Come and… jump on it.”  _ It was complete with suggestive dance.

 

That did it. Rick did a coffee spit-take all over the bar and Negan’s white shirt. 

 

Carl watched the two of them laugh until they had tears streaming down their faces. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen his father laugh that hard. He had forgotten what it sounded like. Even though he didn’t get the inside joke they were laughing about, it still made him smile. Seeing his father doubled over and clutching his stomach a couple months ago would have meant Shane had most likely hit him. But this morning, Carl was thankful. Thankful for whatever divine intervention that had lead Negan into their lives.

 

 

***

 

 

Rick's legs were still a little sore, but some ibuprofen and stretches Negan showed him had taken the edge off. He and Carl were out back, doing yard work. 

 

“You and Sophia seem to be spending a lot more time together,” Rick said, leaning on his rake.

 

Carl looked up through his long hair. “Yeah. I mean, it’s easier now. With Shane gone. Easier to get close to someone.”

 

“I know what you mean.”

 

“You do, don’t you?” Carl asked earnestly. “You’re a different person now. You’re happy.”

 

Rick looked down at the ground and nodded slowly. “Yeah, Carl. I am. But not because Shane is gone. It's Negan. Him being here now, that's everything. I don't know what I'd do without him.”

 

“Someone call for me?” 

 

The voice startled Rick. He turned around to see Negan leaning against the doorframe, smiling. 

 

“Heard my name.”

 

“How long have you been standing there?” Rick asked with a heated blush spreading across his cheeks. 

 

“Long enough,” Negan crossed his arms with a proud smirk.

 

“We… we were just —”

 

“Think you could run an errand for me, Blue Eyes?”

 

Rick looked down at his pajama bottoms and flip flops. “Where?”

 

Negan laughed. “Believe it not, I need you to go on a beer run. If it’s okay with you, I got a couple friends dropping by.”

 

Rick secretly hoped it wasn't Simon. Sure, he had asked Negan to apologize for the things he said, but it did little to take the sting out of his words. 

 

“Yeah,” Rick answered. “I can go. Just let me change.”

 

As he watched Rick disappear inside the house, he motioned for Carl, keeping his voice low.

 

“Carol, Maggie and I are throwing your dad a surprise party to celebrate the fact that he’s one-hundred percent fuckin’ healed and ready to go back to work. We don’t have long. All the neighbors are ready with food and decorations. Friends are waiting down the road. Everyone’s just waiting for your dad to get the fuck outta here.”

 

Carl's eyes were huge. “My dad hates surprise parties. Being the center of attention makes him uncomfortable.”

 

“Well shit,” Negan said, cringing. “Can't do anything about it now.”

 

Everyone hastily worked putting up streamers, floating balloons to the ceiling and laying out the food and paper products. 

 

Carol did her best to introduce Negan to all of the neighbors he hadn’t met yet. One in particular stood out to him. Eugene Porter. He didn’t say much, but when he did, no one knew what the hell he was talking about. 

 

“He’s a bit of an odd bird,” he said to Carol.

 

“He’s okay. A little misunderstood.” She laughed. “He's had a crush on Rick for a long time. Shane hated him. But he’s harmless.

 

 

***

 

“He’s back!” Glenn yelled, seeing Rick's car pulling into the driveway. “Everyone hide!”

 

“ _ Surprise _ !”

 

Rick nearly dropped the case of beer that was wedged up under his arm. “What the fu—”

 

Abraham wrapped him up in a tight bear hug. “You look great, man!”

 

“Thank you. I feel—”  

 

Sasha, Carol and Maggie grabbed him next, scattering kisses all over his face. 

 

He felt like a ragdoll being passed around the room. Squeezed, kissed and coddled. All of the attention was getting to him. He could already feel the sweat beading on his forehead and his airways getting tight. He glanced toward the kitchen just as Olivia, the neighborhood gossip, cornered him for a conversation. There was Negan, leaning back against the bar with his arms and feet crossed, just observing all of the attention Rick was getting, pride etched on his face. 

 

He found an opening and was making his way toward Negan when Abe’s thunderous voice rang out.

 

“Excuse me! Everyone! If I could have your attention!”

 

The crowd grew quiet.

 

“I’d like to propose a toast,” Abraham continued. “I look around this room, and I see a survivor.”

 

All eyes fell on Rick. His upper lip was wet with sweat. 

 

“Rick Grimes, has earned that title. Little did we know, he had a shit storm behind door A and a storm of shit behind door B going on here at home. If we had only known, my friend, we would have been here for you like wet on water. But now, you've been given a second chance. You handled said shit with your new friend. With _our new_ _friend_. You survived. However this plays out, however long it takes for the reset button on your life to kick in, you're safe now. Safer than you've been since this whole thing started. You've got nothing left to do _except_ survive.” He held his beer up above his head. “To the survivor!”

 

“To the survivor!” everyone said collectively, raising their drinks high. 

 

Rick wiped his eyes and nodded to everyone, unable to speak due to the large lump in his throat. He looked to Negan again, who nodded with a warm smile, holding his beer up to toast him, too. 

 

The party carried on. The room was filled with laughter and chatter. Everyone was smiling, eating,  drinking and visiting. Other than a near-full bottle of red wine being spilled that left the kitchen floor looking more like a crime scene, it had been a good evening. 

 

Negan found Rick crouched behind a wall with a plate of appetizers, eating in solitude. 

 

“There you are,” Negan said. “Been looking everywhere for you. How you feeling? You look a little pale.”

 

Rick smiled. “I'm good. I just needed a break. I was feeling a little anxious. Can't believe you did this for me. Thank you.”

 

Negan handed him an envelope.

 

“What’s this?”

 

Negan smiled. “I told everyone else no gifts, but I did get you a little something.”

 

“You didn’t have to do— ” 

 

“Rick, just open it. It’s not a big fuckin’ deal.”

 

Rick opened the envelope. He pulled out an obviously-handmade coupon. His cheeks dimpled and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he read it out loud.

 

_ “Good for one, one-hour foot massage.” _ He laughed. “Best gift ever. Thank you. “

 

“You’re welcome.” Negan said. “Just thought, even though you lost the bet, I could still pamper those feet.”

 

Rick's smile widened. “I’m gonna go stick this on the fridge right now. Don’t wanna lose it. I intend to use it  _ very soon _ .”

 

“Rick! Watch out for the—” 

 

Carol was standing in the kitchen with a mop in her hands, trying to warn him. He didn’t hear her in time. He slipped. His feet went completely out from under him, sending him splashing in the wine and striking the back of his head against the floor. The hit didn’t knock him out, but it did leave him disoriented. 

 

He turned his head, feeling the wetness under him. 

 

_ Blood.  _

_ Everywhere. _

 

 

In his bewildered state, he had mistaken the wine for blood.  _ His  _ blood. His mind carried him back to the night Shane left him in the kitchen floor. Lying in a puddle of his own blood, unsure of what had happened to him. He released a loud, doleful cry out of fear. His heart began to pound. He was sweating and trembling. Tingling sensations in his hands and feet. All he wanted to do was run away, but his body wouldn’t move.

 

“Rick!” Negan, ignoring the wine in the floor, dropped to his knees beside him. “Talk to me, baby. Are you hurt?” 

 

“I can’t… can’t… uh—” He was hyperventilating. Couldn’t get enough air to speak.

 

“Dad!” Carl was on the verge of panic himself. “Help him! Do something! You’re a paramedic! Give him some oxygen or something! Please!”

 

“Carl!” Negan barked. “He’s hyperventilating. That means he’s over-breathing. Oxygen won’t help. He needs to get control over it himself.” 

 

His fingers were going over every inch of his scalp checking for injuries. He could only detect the faintest lump on the back of his head. 

 

“ And you,” he continued. “Freaking out the way you are right now? You’re not helping him. Get out of here. Everyone. He’s gonna be fine. Just give him some fuckin’ space.”

 

Negan sat him up and tried to reassure him he wasn’t hurt. “It’s just a little bump. I think you’re having a panic attack. You’ll be fine in a minute. I need you to breathe.”

 

Rick caught sight of the twenty or so sets of eyes on him. His breathing became even more labored. His lips were numb and hIs complexion had turned ghost white. 

 

“Gonna… pass… out.” 

 

And that’s exactly what happened. Negan caught him before he fell over.

 

“Abe! Help me get him upstairs!”

 

Within seconds, Abraham had his limp body hoisted up over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. 

 

“Party the fuck on, people.” Negan shouted over his shoulder going up the stairs. “We’ll be back in a flash.”

 

Negan grabbed a blanket out of the linen closet and threw it on the bed. Abe laid him down just as he was coming to. They stripped him out of the wine-soaked clothes.

 

“I got it now, Abe. Thanks.”

 

They were alone now. Rick was hyperventilating again. Negan lay down on the bed beside him and pulled him close, spooning his jerking body. He slowed his own breathing down, exaggerating the sounds of inhalation and exhalation so Rick could hear and feel  _ his  _ breath going in and out.

 

A concerned Carol and Carl stood quietly outside the door.

 

“You’re okay. I promise. I’m right here.” He kissed the back of his neck. “I’m not going anywhere. Just breathe with me.”

 

Carol knew he was in good hands. She motioned for Carl and they went back downstairs. 

 

His breathing was righting itself except for a few gasping hiccups. “Where did all that... blood come from?” 

 

It was then that Negan realized what had happened. “Baby that wasn’t blood. Someone spilled a bottle of wine. You slipped.” He kissed his neck again. “No fuckin’ wonder you were scared.”

 

“I thought... Shane— ”

 

Negan shushed him. “That’s not possible. And even if it was, I would  _ never  _ let that happen.”

 

After a few minutes, a much calmer Rick turned over to face him. “I’m sorry I ruined your party.”

 

“You didn’t ruin shit, Blue Eyes. We’re gonna lay here and snuggle for a few minutes, get you dressed, then head back downstairs and not fall any fuckin’ more.”

 

Rick’s eyes were downcast. “I  _ can’t _ . I made a fool out of myself.”

 

“ _ Rick _ .” Negan whispered. “You have no choice but to go back down there. You live here with these people. You work with half of them. No more hiding. What happened fuckin’ happened. We can’t do shit now to change it. You just chin-up and deal with it. 

 

Rick sighed. 

 

“Let me take you for a little ride in the fuckin’ wayback machine,” Negan said. “Way back one day in high school, during gym class, some motherfucker stole my underwear while I was in the shower. Just fuckin’ took ‘em. I had no choice but to get dressed without ‘em. I was pissed and wasn't really paying attention to what I was doing and I zipped up… uh a little too hastily. Next thing I know, I was screaming like a goddamn chimp on fire. I caught my dick in the fuckin’ zipper, Rick! Now, mind you, it wasn’t enough that I was hopping around the locker room in front of everyone like a dumbass. No. I had to sashay my fuckin’ happy ass down to the clinic with my backpack in front of me. Nurse wouldn't touch it. Sent me to the damn janitor! Imagine having your dick freed from your zipper by the dude named Luther that cleans up puke!”

 

Rick’s body was jerking again. But this time, it was from laughing.

 

“Did I stay home from school and hide after that? Hell no. I walked right back in there the next fuckin’ day. Did people talk about me? Laugh at me? You bet. I just beat the hell out of ‘em and went on about my shit.”

 

“Well,” Rick said, still laughing. “I think I finally came up with the perfect pet name for you.”   
  


“What’s that, Blue Eyes?”

 

“Zipperdick.”

 

Negan jumped up on his hands and knees, hovering over Rick. “You call me that and _I_ _will_ tickle the shit out of you.”

 

Rick looked at him with mischievous eyes and stuck his tongue in his cheek. “ _ Zipperdick and Blue Eyes _ .”

 

Negan, growling, had unleashed both hands on him at once. Tickling his sides, armpits, stomach, anywhere Rick’s arms weren’t defending him. Rick was laughing like a hyena when someone knocked softly on the door frame.

 

“Everything okay?” Maggie asked. She already knew the answer after hearing Rick laugh.

 

“Yeah,” Negan answered, ending his tickle assault. “He’s okay. We’ll be down in a minute.” He winked at Maggie. She smiled in return before turning to leave.

 

_ He’s okay. _

 

_ *** _

  

The last straggling party guests had finally left and the house was quiet again. Everything was back in order. Carl was tending to homework and Judith was sleeping soundly in her bed. Negan found Rick on the couch, channel surfing with heavy eyelids. 

 

“Maybe we should think about going to bed. Early day for both of us tomorrow.”   
  
Rick ruffled his eyebrows and looked at his watch. “It’s not even 8:30.”

 

“I gotta get up at 4:30, Rick. We’ve had a big day. I just wanna stretch out with you and be comfortable.” He took the remote out of Rick's hand and turned off the television. “And you have to be up at five. You can't be late for your first day back.”

 

Rick crossed his arms and huffed. “I'm not tired and I was watching that.”

 

“You weren't watching anything. You were flipping through channels and fighting to keep your eyes open.”

 

“So.”

 

“So?” Negan questioned. “What are you, five? Let's go to bed. I'm tired.”

 

“You go. I'm staying right here.” Rick remained seated with his arms crossed. 

 

“I can't sleep without you,” Negan whined.

 

Rick shrugged his shoulders. 

 

Negan went through the house mumbling something under his breath, turning off the lights. He walked back over to the couch. 

 

“Stand up a second. I need to show you something.”

 

Rick stood up. “ What ?”

 

“What was that move Abe did on you earlier? Oh yeah. I remember now. It was something like— ”

 

He took his hand and stretched his arm out. Bending down, he hooked his other arm between Rick’s legs and situated his shoulder at his groin. He stood up and Rick was effortlessly lifted in the air, laying across his shoulders.

 

“Shit!” Rick laughed. “Put me down you crazy son of a bitch!”

 

Negan headed toward the stairs. “I will when I get you upstairs. You'll thank me in the morning when you wake up well rested.”

 

Carl opened his door as they walked by. 

 

“Call 911, Carl,” Rick said, arms dangling behind Negan’s swaying form. “Tell ‘em I'm being forced to go to bed early by my mean boyfriend. Officer down! Requesting backup!”

 

Carl rolled his eyes and shut the door, smiling on the other side listening to his father laugh. 

 

After all of Rick's protesting about not being tired, he was asleep before Negan crawled into bed. 


	18. Chapter 18

Negan looked over his shoulder, squinting and blinking, trying to focus on the red digital numbers on the clock. “Shit,” he whispered.

 

He had woken up a half hour _before_ his alarm was to go off.

 

_Should I just lay here?_

_Should I go back to sleep?_

 

He reached for his cell phone. Using the light from the screen, he illuminated Rick’s face.

 

Damn him and his ability to make him melt every time he looked at him. He was sleeping on his stomach, face smashed against the pillow and his mouth open slightly.

 

Negan kissed his forehead and was about to get up to head downstairs for some coffee, when Rick began to stir.

 

“ _Yeah_ ,” he mumbled in his sleep. “ _Mmm_.”

 

Negan couldn't make out the other words he was attempting to say, but his sexual moans of pleasure were adamantly clear. Rick was having a sex dream.

 

Every sleepy growl and groan went straight to Negan's dick. He slowly pulled the blanket back, revealing the length of his lean body. _He must be having one hell of a dream_ , he thought. Even the man's toes were curled.

 

Negan was staring down at him when he was struck with a wonderfully, _awful_ idea. Little by little, Rick’s boxers were pulled down past his hips and legs and discarded in the floor. He eased out of bed and quietly padded across the room to Rick's underwear drawer. He felt around and pulled out the toy he had teased him about. It had been taken out of its package, _and_ , he turned it on, yes, it had been supplied with fresh batteries.

 

_That little shit._

_He already used it._

 

He slathered the toy with lube and went back to bed. Spreading his cheeks apart with one hand, he placed the humming tip of the vibrator against his tight opening. His body jerked in response. Negan circled his quivering ring ‘round and ‘round while Rick moaned his approval into the pillow.

 

“You awake yet, sweetheart?”

 

With no answer, he inserted the first bead of the wand. Rick, whether he was awake or not, spread his legs a little further apart. Another bead sliding inside him. Then another and another until the fifth and final had disappeared.

 

Rick was definitely awake now. He was moaning and attempting to thrust himself on the wand, but Negan held him firmly in place. Rick’s head came up off the pillow, as the last bead that went _in_ , was slowly pulled _out_.

 

“Negan,” he whined. His voice was low and husky, still trickling with sleep.

 

“Good morning, Blue Eyes.” Negan chuckled.

 

“I want _you_ ,” Rick said, sinfully into the pillow. “ _Your_ body.”

 

He tossed the vibrator and lifted him to his knees. Digging his fingers into Rick’s hips, he buried himself deep inside. Rick rose up, pressing his back flush against Negan’s chest and wrapped his arm around his head. Grabbing a handful of hair, Rick pulled him close enough for their mouths to meet, dissolving into a scorching, tongue-tangling kiss. Rick began to pump his hips, settling into a no-mercy-whatsoever pace.

 

“What the fuck?” Negan’s alarm clock started blaring. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

 

Rick was still nuzzled up against him, sleeping away with his face pressed against his armpit.

 

Negan groaned as he rubbed his face. “Son of a bitch.”

 

He watched Rick’s body rise and fall with his deep, steady breathing. He didn't have the heart to wake him up early to finish what his own subconscious mind had started. He didn't have the time, either. He slipped out of bed and jumped in the shower.

 

 

***

 

 

After cramming the rest of his toast into his mouth, Negan looked at the clock. He grabbed a pen and a Post-It Note pad, leaving little notes for Rick to read as he got ready for his day.

 

Before heading out, he made his way back up the stairs. Rick was now curled in a fetal position, hanging off the side of the bed.

 

“Rick,” he chuckled. “Time to get up. You gotta shower, get dressed, get Carl up for school, drop Judy off at Maggie’s and get yourself to work by six.”

 

He rolled over to his other side, stretching like a cat, arching his body into a backwards C.

 

“C’mon, Rick. I gotta go or I’ll be late. I need to know that you’re awake.”

 

“I’m awake,” he answered in a dry and groggy tone. “Aren’t you even gonna tell me bye?”

 

Negan didn’t want to tell him bye. He wanted him to stay right there in that bed. To know he would be here when he got home from work. Safe. He was beyond happy that Rick had healed physically, but he had been secretly dreading this day. He hated the idea of him returning to this job. It was dangerous. Rick was a grown man. His own man. It wasn’t Negan’s decision to make. Like a bird with a broken wing. He was mended now. It was time for him to fly again.

 

He walked over to the side of the bed and knelt down. “Have a good day at work, baby.”

 

Rick wrapped his arms around his neck and smiled a sleepy smile. “I’m gonna miss you.”

 

“Bullshit.” Negan huffed a laugh against Rick’s shoulder. “The only thing you’re gonna miss is sleeping in, Blue Eyes. I’d be at work anyway.”

 

“You’re not gonna miss me?” Rick asked, feigning hurt feelings.

 

Negan quickly kissed his forehead. “I already do.” He stood and faded through the darkness beyond the doorway. Rick listened as his muted footsteps down the carpeted stairs led him to the front door. When he heard it shut and the deadbolt click, he half-assed his way through making the bed and got in the shower.

 

As he stood in front of the sink, toweling his face and hair, something caught his eye. There was a sticky note stuck to the center of the mirror.

 

**_You’re ALWAYS_ **

**_beautiful to me._ **

 

He clutched it against his chest. His anxiety has had him on the verge of tears all morning, but this little note sealed the deal. He spotted another note sticking to his toothpaste.

 

**_7 billion smiles_ **

**_on this planet._ **

**_Yours is my_ **

**_favorite._ **

 

_How did I get so lucky?_

 

Maybe it wasn’t luck. Maybe the universe finally thought he’d had enough. He didn’t know if he would ever have an answer to that question, but he wasn’t sure if he really needed one. He had him now. They had each other. And that’s all that really mattered.

 

Time was getting away from him. He made his way to Carl’s room.

 

“Get up, Carl. I’ll be leaving in a bit.”

 

Rick headed down to the kitchen. His hand brushed over another note as he felt for the light switch.

 

**_You turn on the lights…_ **

**_and ME._ **

 

He smiled widely and felt his face heat up. He wondered how many more notes he would find. He opened the refrigerator to get the vanilla caramel creamer for his coffee.

 

**_This is sweet,_ **

**_but you’re sweeter._ **

 

He reached up in the cabinet for his favorite coffee mug.

 

**_I’m jealous of this cup._ **

**_It gets a kiss from_ **

**_your sleepy lips._ **

 

Another note was stuck to the coffee carousel.

 

**_My man. He’s just like_ **

**_a cup of coffee. Hot,_ **

**_strong and able to_ **

**_keep me... UP._ **

 

He was laughing when Carl finally came downstairs. “What’s so funny?”

 

“Nothing. It’s just… I thought this was going to be a shitty day.”

 

Carl walked into the kitchen and pulled out the box of Fruity Pebbles from the cabinet. “What makes you think otherwise?” He grabbed a bowl and noticed a piece of paper inside it. “What the… ?”

 

**_I’d rather you spoon with me_ **

**_instead of this bowl, baby._ **

 

Rick took the note, one corner of his mouth curled up in a lopsided smile. “This, Carl. This is what makes me think otherwise.” He didn’t bother to explain. He went upstairs to pack Judith’s bag.

 

 

***

 

“Well I didn’t recognize him,” Simon said.

 

Simon kept his eyes on the road as Negan continued to chastise him.

 

“What the shit, Simon? How could you not fuckin’ know that was Rick? Nobody else in the goddamn world has eyes like that.”

 

“I dunno. He just looked so different.”

 

“You hurt him. Came damn close to fuckin’ things up between us.”

 

Simon rolled his eyes. “Oh come on. You’re just being dramatic now. I apologised. I don’t know what else you want me to do.”

 

Negan wasn’t listening to him anymore. He stared out the window and watched the world go by in an orange, red and yellow blur. He was thinking about the people back at home right now. Rick was probably busy getting Judith ready to drop her off at Maggie’s.

 

They passed a pumpkin patch. Negan thought about how much fun that would be for all four of them to do as a whole.

 

_As a family._

 

That word sounded so satisfying bouncing around in his head. He and Carl got along so well. He feels as if they’re growing closer everyday. Judith’s approval of him was incredibly authentic, as 14 month old babies lack the ability to lie.

 

And then there’s Rick. They’ve seen the best and worst of each other already. He’s seen Rick in the _most_ intimate way possible. They’ve cried in each other's arms. There was no shame between them. He didn’t know if it was achievable for them to be any closer.

 

 

***

 

 

The first thing Rick noticed, when sitting down at his desk, was that someone had enough decency to remove the framed wedding photo of him and Shane.

 

“Loose ends make my ass itch.” Abraham’s voice surprised him. “I hope you don’t mind me taking liberties, but I couldn’t let you walk back in here fit as a damn fiddle and have to look at that photograph.”

 

_I should’ve known._

 

Rick dropped his head between his shoulders before standing up, initiating a hug with the big man in front of him. “No. I don’t mind. Thank you.”

 

“You’ve been missed, Rick.”

 

“I’ve missed you guys, too.” Rick sniffed. He was hoping today wouldn’t start out emotional, but Abe, without meaning to, was making it impossible.

 

“The table is set for the rest of your life,” Abraham said, pulling back, hands remaining on his shoulders. “I hope those years to be long and fruitful.” He paused for a moment.

 

“I want you to pay damn close attention to what I’m about to say, Rick.”

 

He nodded.

 

“Whatever happened back there, that night at your house, was handled and kicked right up its own ass. We know that. You took care of shit. But it didn’t have to get that far. I was right here. I could have helped you find an easier, shorter road out. Saved you a lot of pain. Simply put,” he lowered his voice. “I would have torn that man a brand new asshole.”

 

Rick looked up. In all honesty, he didn’t know what to say.

 

“I’ve got your back. You remember that.”

 

***

 

**Negan: What are you doing for lunch?**

**Blue Eyes: Gotta skip lunch.**

**Blue Eyes: Traffic accident. Ton of paperwork.**

**Blue Eyes: I'm a laptop cop for the next hour.**

 

 

Negan was disappointed. He wanted to treat Rick to lunch. Give him and Simon a chance to talk. Maybe get to know each other better. Simon wasn’t a bad guy, he was just really good at saying the worst thing possible at any given moment, not unlike himself. That’s the main reason he and Simon got along so well. They were both impetuous assholes without much in the way of feelings. They could easily tell one another how they felt without anger and resentment.

 

 

**Negan: I’m off in 10 mins.**

**Negan: I’ll pick up the kids.**

**Blue Eyes: Thank you!**

 

 

***

 

 

Rick was glad to be home. He knew today wouldn’t be easy after being on leave for eight weeks, but he was glad it was over. Negan was bent over, digging through the refrigerator when Rick walked into the kitchen.

 

“If you’re looking for something sweet, turn around.”

 

Negan chuckled into the fridge before turning and wrapping his arms around Rick tightly. “I’ve been craving something sweet and creamy vanilla all fuckin’ day.” He lifted his chin with the tip of his middle finger until their eyes connected. “I missed you, officer. And that uniform is sexy as fuck. I’m starting to develop a whole new fantasy.”

 

Their lips fused together for a slow, gentle kiss.

 

“What are we doing for dinner?” Rick asked. “I’m starving.”

 

“Why don’t you go change.” Negan said. “I was thinking, when Judy wakes up, I could take us out for pizza. Then after that, we can go to the pumpkin patch.”

 

Rick’s face lit up. “Pie! I want pumpkin pie!”

 

Negan laughed. “Okay, okay, okay. Go change.” He watched him walk away, admiring the way his sheriff’s pants accentuated his behind.

 

***

 

Judith loved the tractor and cow train ride, waving and laughing as she rode by. Carl enjoyed the mine shaft slide, going down it at least twenty times. And Negan, somehow he had convinced Rick to ride the zipline with him, where he proceeded to scream at the top of his lungs all the way down.

 

Afterwards, they took Judith to the small petting zoo. She adored the pigs and rabbits. Rick, on the other hand, not so much. Negan and Carl laughed until their sides ached watching Rick run in circles, trying to escape the affections of an _extra friendly_ goat.

 

“I don’t blame him, Blue Eyes,” Negan whispered. “You got a nice ass. I’d keep my face in it all damn day if I could get away with it.”

 

Rick shoved him playfully. “Can I have my pie now?”

 

As they walked toward the pie booth, Negan noticed a sign. “Look, baby! Do it! Do it for me?”

 

“Do what?” Rick asked.

 

Negan pointed to the sign that read _Pumpkin Pie Eating Contest._ “It starts in ten minutes. Please do it. I would kill to see that.”

 

“I dunno.” Rick sighed. “Do I have to stick my face in it?”

 

“Yeah. The same way I eat your—”

  
“Shut. Up.” Rick hissed, eyeing Carl and Judith.

 

“What? I was just gonna say the way I eat your fettuccine, Blue Eyes.” He made a vulgar slurping noise and winked.

 

“Okay.” Rick agreed. “I’ll do it. For three reasons. One: Shane would have never approved. Two: You asked me to. And three: I _really_ love pumpkin pie.”

 

“Atta boy! Let’s go sign you up.”

 

Rick was seated with seven other contestants, all draped in black trash bags with their heads sticking out. There was only one rule: no using their hands. Negan had spoken to the lady in charge and asked if it was possible for Rick to sit on his hands rather than have them tied, fearing a trigger from his past experiences.

 

A crowd had gathered to watch the contestants, much to Rick’s dismay. But he blocked them out by focusing on the pie in front of him. When the whistle blew, Rick plunged in face-first, gulping pie and whipped cream as fast as his tongue, teeth and lips would allow him, turning his head to the side every so often for air. He could hear Carl and Negan above everyone else in the crowd, cheering him on.

 

“Come on, baby!” Negan shouted. “Eat the shit outta that fuckin’ pie!” He ignored the glares he was receiving due to his language. “You got this!”

 

“Come on, dad!” Carl cried. “Go!”

 

Negan noticed another contestant catching up to Rick. “Let’s go, Rick! Eat that fuckin’ pie! Show that bastard Shane what you can do! Come on!”

 

Rick stood first, his pie plate was empty. The whistle blew, signifying his victory. He ran to Negan and the kids. His face, of course, was covered in pie.

 

“I did it!” he beamed.

 

“Yes you fuckin' did!” Negan kissed him, enjoying the taste of Rick's pie-coated lips and ignoring the judgemental stares and whispers coming from a few people in the crowd.

 

 

***

 

 

Rick’s prize, another pumpkin pie, rested between Carl and Judith in the back seat as they made their way home. Rick had a mountain of used napkins piling up in his lap as he attempted to blow all of the pie filling out of his nose.

 

“I could’ve just bought a pie,” he said, blowing into a fresh napkin. “I was hoping for a trophy or something.” He squinted and blinked while rubbing at his watery eye. “I think I got some pie crust in my eye.”

 

Negan put the pie in the refrigerator while Rick scrubbed his hair and face in the shower. He joined Carl on the couch. “Who knew your dad could knock a pie back that fast?”

 

“I’ve seen him eat an entire pumpkin pie once,” Carl said, “But not that fast. It was one year at my grandmother’s for Thanksgiving.”

 

“Is that what you guys do for Thanksgiving?” Negan had been curious about Rick’s parents. He had never mentioned them before.

 

“We used to. But we didn’t last year. Won’t be this year either, I guess.”

 

Negan hummed. “Well, why not?”

 

“My grandparents don’t talk to us anymore.” Carl’s eyes were downcast. “Lifestyle choices,” Carl said with air quotes.

 

“Lifestyle choices?” Negan thought about it a minute before his eyes widened. “Oh. You mean they don’t approve over the fact that your dad prefers dick.”

 

Carl cringed but nodded. “I don’t think they would have liked Shane either way.” He paused. “But I do think they would have like you... if they weren’t so narrow-minded and ignorant.”

 

Negan felt a warmth spread through his chest. “Why’s that?” he asked, smiling.

 

Carl shrugged. “I dunno. You’re likable. And you make my dad happy. That should be enough. That should be enough for _anyone_. It is for me.”

 

Negan’s eyes welled up with tears and he felt a tightness in his throat. He had achieved the impossible without even trying. He had been approved by his boyfriend’s teenage son.

 

After a short silence, Carl stood to go to his room. “I better get to my homework.”

 

Negan caught him by the wrist as he walked by. “Thank you, Carl. I like you, too.”


	19. Chapter 19

 

October came and went and the days of November were passing swiftly. The leaves have all changed into their scarlet red, fire orange and golden yellow attire. The ground crackling and crunching beneath hustling feet. Squirrels scrambling for one last bounty. Porches and yards were jeweled with pumpkins and scarecrows. The days are getting shorter and the nights growing longer.

 

“I used to have a hatred for Fall,” Rick said, sitting on the porch one evening with Negan. “But I think it’s my favorite season now.”

 

“Why did you hate it?” Negan questioned.

 

“I always thought it signified death. Everything around me dying. The grass. The leaves. The flowers. Myself. But now, I see it more as a symbol of change. Our bodies and our minds… everything around us is constantly changing. I’m learning to appreciate what I have in front of me _now_. Enjoy it before it’s gone.”

 

He watched a single leaf fall and spiral toward the ground. “It’s about letting go.” Tears were pooling in his eyes. “Letting go of burdens. Things that hold us back and make us weak. Then we wait.” He took Negan’s hand. “Wait for new leaves to bud and grow.”

 

Negan smiled. “So, does that make me your new leaf, Blue Eyes?”

 

“You are. You’re my new beginning. A brand new season.”

 

Rick looked at the smile present on Negan’s face. There was no way, in that moment, he could see the anguish that was brewing inside him. The day before Thanksgiving marked the four-year anniversary of Lucille’s death, and that day was approaching fast. It was a day he never handled well.

 

He began lashing out at Rick over little things, like leaving cabinet doors open, dropping his dirty clothes beside the hamper, or forgetting to put the butter back in the refrigerator. Then one evening, after putting his patrol car in the garage, he accidentally left the garage door open.

 

Rick sat on the bed changing out of his uniform as Negan shouted above him.

 

“Why don’t you just put out a big ass sign at the curb that says _Steal my motherfuckin’ Harley_ , Rick? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

 

Rick had never seen Negan this angry before. He was scared. On the verge of tears. “It… it was an accident. And it was only for a few minutes.”

 

“Goddammit!” Negan roared. “You’re a fuckin’ cop! You know that’s all it takes!”

 

“Well maybe the batteries are dead in the remote. I’ll go ch—”

 

“It’s not the fuckin’ batteries, Rick!” Negan snapped. “It’s you! You probably never even tried to close the fuckin’ door!”

 

The more Negan talked, the more he sounded like Shane. Rick was shaking out of fear.

 

Negan sat down beside him, noticing him trembling, and put a hand on his shoulder. Before he could speak, Rick flinched and turned around. “I’m sorry, Negan. I’ll do better. I’ll do whatever, just don’t—”

 

“C’mere.” He pulled him against his chest and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m just going through some shit right now. I don’t mean to take it out on you. I’m sorry.”

 

“You really scared me, Negan.” Rick’s voice was fragile.

 

“I’m so sorry, baby.” Negan was riddled with guilt. He wanted to tell Rick what was making him act this way, but he couldn’t get the words to form. It made him feel weak. He decided his best bet would be to change the subject altogether. “What are we doing for Thanksgiving?”

 

Confused, Rick drew in a shaky breath. “Well, Carol invited us over to her house, but... nevermind. It’s a crazy thought.”

 

“Tell me, Rick.”  
  
“I thought it might be fun to cook for ourselves. Me and you. Think we could do it?”

 

“Hell yes. I know we can. Let’s go right now. Let’s go shopping for our first Thanksgiving, Blue Eyes.”

 

***

 

Rick’s biceps bulged when he hoisted a twenty-two pound turkey into their cart.

 

Negan sighed. “What the fuck are we gonna do with that much turkey, Rick? There’s only three of us with Judith visiting Lori. Let’s just get a turkey breast. That’s more than enough.”

 

“Bigger is better,” Rick argued. “And I like dark meat, too. I just love turkey.”

 

Negan threw his hands up in frustration. He recalled having this very same argument with Lucille during their last year of marriage. And Negan had been right that time. They ended up trashing over half of the bird. He went to the front of the cart to take the turkey out.

 

“What are you doing?” Rick questioned. “I’m getting this one.”

 

Negan gave the cart a hard shove to the side. “Fine! Finish the rest of the shopping by your goddamn self! I’ll be in the fuckin’ car.”

 

He stormed out, leaving Rick standing there stunned, wondering what the hell happened _this time_. One minute he was fine, the next he was blowing up at him all over again. He ignored the stares from the other shoppers and filled his cart, on his own.

 

He loaded the bags into the trunk as Negan stared at him through the rearview mirror. His expression was soft. His eyes were sorrowful.

 

“I’m sorry,” Negan said as Rick slid into the passenger seat.

 

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on with you? Is it me? Did I do something wrong?”

 

Negan let his head fall back against the headrest. “No, baby. You’re perfect. It’s… it’s all me. But it’ll be alright in a day or two, I promise.”

 

“ _What_ will be alright? I wanna know, Negan.”

 

“It’ll be fine,” Negan reassured.

 

Rick released a discontented sigh but decided not to press the matter any further.

 

***

 

Rick and Negan made a good team in the kitchen on Thanksgiving day. Rick laughed at all of Negan’s vulgar turkey baster jokes, and Negan laughed at Rick when he dropped a dozen eggs in the floor. Everything was perfect, until Rick topped the entire pumpkin pie with whipped cream.

 

“What the fuck?” Negan snapped. “You’re supposed to let everyone decide for themselves whether or not they want whipped cream, Rick!”

 

“It’s prettier this way,” Rick insisted.

 

“Not if you don’t fuckin’ like whipped cream!”

 

Rick exhaled roughly. “I’ll scrape it off. _Damn_. I can’t do anything right around you anymore.”

 

“Don’t,” Negan hissed.

 

“Don’t what? Don’t talk back to you? Because fuck you. I’ll say or do whatever I fuckin’ want. I’m tired of walking on eggshells around you lately.”

 

“Guess what, Rick. You wouldn’t have to fuckin’ walk on fuckin’ eggshells if your motherfuckin’ ass didn’t throw all the goddamn eggs in the fuckin’ floor!”

 

Rick was seething. “I _dropped_ them. I forgot, you’re perfect. You never make mistakes.”

 

“Oh I don’t know about that, _Rick_ . Maybe I _do_ make mistakes.” His glare was hot enough to burn.

 

Rick was fighting back tears. “Me? You mean me?”

 

Negan was silent. He had turned his back to Rick.

 

“Answer me!” Rick shouted. “Was I... a mistake?”

 

Nothing.

 

“Fuckin’ answer me!”

 

“Goddamn it, Lucille!” Negan howled. “Stop it right now!”

 

_Lucille?_

 

Negan hurled the pie out of anger and frustration. He wasn’t aiming for Rick, but it struck him, the impact hard enough to send pie filling from one end of the kitchen to the other.

 

Rick looked down in disbelief. “You said you would never… ” His voice was broken. His chin quivered as tears streamed down his face. “You promised me. You—”

 

“Oh my God, baby. I’m… ” Negan took a step toward him.

 

“No!” Rick put his hands out in defense. “Don’t,” he sobbed. “Just stay back.”

 

Rick backed away slowly, not turning until he felt he was a safe distance away from him. He made it up the stairs and locked himself in the bedroom.

 

Negan started cleaning up the mess and somehow managed to finish the meal on his own. He cursed himself the entire time for treating Rick the way he did. He would have never hit him, with anything, for any reason. But he did, and he can’t undo it.

 

Carl came home at 6 pm on the dot, as Rick had instructed. He brought Sophia along with him. “Where’s Dad?”

 

“Oh.” Negan thought of what he could possibly tell him. “He uh… he’s not feeling well.”

 

Negan instantly cringed at his own words. It was Shane’s excuse. He couldn’t do that. He wouldn't.

 

“No, Carl. That’s a lie. We… we had a fight. It’s all on me. I was a total asshole to him and he didn't deserve it. He’s in the bedroom. Try and see if you can get him to come down for dinner. He won’t talk to me. I'm gonna feel like shit if he misses Thanksgiving.”

 

Carl knocked softly on the bedroom door. After getting no response, he turned the knob. Rick was undressed and in bed. Walking around to the other side, Carl could see a small mountain of used tissues in the floor and several scattered about on the bed. “Dad,” he whispered. He was asleep.

 

Negan’s heart sank as he placed Rick’s twenty-two pound bird on the table and noticed that Carl had descended the stairs alone. “He’s coming down?”

 

“No. He’s asleep.”

 

“Didn’t you wake him up?”

 

“No,” Carl said. “I mean, like, he’s undressed and under the blankets. Like he’s asleep for the night.”

 

The holiday was shared among the three of them, quietly and awkwardly. Carl and Sophia retreated to the living room as Negan put away the barely-touched feast. At eight o’clock, he decided to head up to bed. Maybe things will look different by morning.

 

Before opening the door, he wondered if he should sleep downstairs tonight. Turning the knob, he noticed the door was unlocked. If Rick had meant for him to stay out, he would have locked it. Right?

 

He sighed, looking at Rick’s form under the light of the moonlit room. He had missed one of his favorite holidays. It could have been avoided. If Negan could just learn to let go of Lucille. Accept the fact that she’s gone. Accept the fact that she was gone from his world _before_ she died. He asked himself if he would have to accept the fact that Rick was gone from his life now, as well.

 

Rick was facing the wall. Negan walked around to the other side of the bed. His hands were tucked up under his chin.

 

“Baby?” Negan whispered, stroking his hair.

 

Rick’s eyebrows furrowed and he jumped, but didn't wake up. The movement did bring his hands forward. He was clutching something. Negan’s breath hitched when he realized he was clinging onto the sticky notes he had left him on the morning he returned to work.

 

_What have I done?_

 

Without undressing, he laid down beside Rick on top of the blanket, keeping his distance. “I’m so sorry, Blue Eyes,” he whispered in the dark. “I love you.” He set his alarm for 4 am and cried until his world went quiet and faded to black.

 

***

 

The 4 am alarm went off. Negan looked across the bed. Rick was already gone.

 

Negan wiped his eyes riding in the passenger seat of the ambulance. “I screwed up, Simon. How am I gonna fix this? I can’t lose him.”  
  
“Did you explain the Lucille situation?” Simon asked.

 

“No.” Negan sniffed. “I couldn’t.”

 

“Oh. But you _could_ treat the most important person in the world to you like shit?”

 

Negan scowled at him.

 

“Don’t you shoot _me_ those daggers,” Simon said. “This may not be what you wanted to hear from me, but you were in the wrong. Lucy is gone, brother. I get that. But you punishing Rick for it isn’t going to bring her back. And correct me if I’m fuckin’ wrong here, but didn’t you vow to protect Rick _because_ of Lucille?”

 

Negan was slow to do so but he finally nodded. He pulled out his phone.

 

**Negan: You okay, Rick?**

**Negan: I really am sorry.**

**Negan: Thanksgiving is hard for me. That’s when I lost Lucille.**

 

No reply.

 

***

 

“You have a big Thanksgiving?” Abraham asked, sitting on the edge of Rick’s car outside the coffee shop.

 

“No,” Rick said flatly, staring at the texts on his phone.

 

Static came in over their radios.

 

 **_Control1: Car_ ** **_3, 18-4-0._ **

 

**_Officer Grimes: Go ahead._ **

 

**_Control1: Respond to 3393 Peachtree. Man with a gun reported inside the shopping center._ **

 

**_Officer Grimes: 10-4_ **

 

**_Control1: Receiving additional calls from inside the shopping center._ **

 

**_Officer Grimes: Copy. I’ll be in route._ **

 

**_Officer Abraham Ford: 779_ **

 

**_Control1: 779 Copy._ **

 

**_Officer Abraham Ford: In route with Car 3._ **

 

**_Control: 10-4_ **

  


“Let’s go find this mother dick and take him in,” Abe said with a wink.

 

They arrived at the mall to find everything eerily quiet. It didn’t last long as panicked screams followed several loud bangs.

 

**_Control1: Code 3 - All units respond. We have multiple reports of shots fired at 3393 Peachtree._ **

 

Rick and Abe turned the volume down on their radios and fought their way through the onslaught of the frenzied stampede trying to escape the hail of gunfire that was still occurring. The pair used finger signals and expressions to communicate as they grew closer to the sound. As they reached the top of the stairs, another round of shots rang out and several lifeless bodies hit the ground.

 

**_Control2: 11-41 Ambulance needed at 3393 Peachtree. Multiple gunshot wound victims in the parking lot._ **

 

Negan’s heart stopped.

 

_Gunshot wounds?_

 

He fumbled with his phone with suddenly shaky hands.

  


**Negan: Where are you Rick**

**Negan: Answer me please**

**Negan: I know you’re mad at me but please fucking answer me baby**

**Negan: I’m scared**

 

“I got a bad feeling, Simon. Get me the fuck there.”

  


**_Control1: Be advised we have received multiple reports of two mall security officers down. Repeat; mall security has been shot._ **

 

Rick and Abraham took cover behind a wall. They watched as several more bodies fell.

 

“I think I can get a clean shot,” Rick whispered.

 

It was a single gunman. He had an assault rifle with multiple rounds of ammunition, which meant he had every intention of adding to the body count.

Simon and Negan pulled into the parking lot alongside several more ambulances and firetrucks. He saw, what he imagined  to be, every police car the city had to offer. He was scanning the lot for Rick’s cruiser.

 

“Negan!” Simon shouted with a loud whistle. “Come on! We’ve got victims over here!”

 

Rick crawled on his stomach, trying to get into position for a killshot. Abe was right behind him.

 

Negan was tending to a toddler with a gunshot wound to the leg. He couldn’t help but think of Judith as she had the same golden ringlets. “You’re gonna be alright, sweetheart.”

 

_Where the fuck is Rick?_

 

Rick and Abe were in position. Sasha had joined them, much to Abraham’s horror. He wanted her out of there.

 

They waited for the right moment to take their shot. The screams coming from the panicked crowd were blood-curdling. Rick saw his opportunity and he took it. The gunman caught the gazes of his would-be next victims fall over his shoulder, making him turn around. With his finger on the trigger, Rick had an assault rifle aimed at him.

 

Abraham jumped into action, putting himself between Rick and the rifle. As the gunman fired, the last thing Rick heard was Abraham’s voice. “You're a survivor, Rick.”

 

Sasha put a bullet in the gunman’s head, but it was too late. The bullet passed through Abraham, killing him instantly, and striking Rick in the head.

 

**_Officer Sasha Williams: Officers down! Officers down! Suspect neutralized!_ **

 

Negan overheard the call on the radio. Something in his soul knew it was Rick. He followed the barrage of officers inside. Sasha directed them upstairs by way of radio communication. When they reached the scene, the carnage was devastating. Bodies lay scattered all around. Blood from the victims were pooling and running together.

 

Negan saw the two officers lying together on the ground. He didn’t want to see, didn’t want to know, but his feet moved him despite everything.

 

He looked down and saw his face. That beautiful face. In that moment, Negan knew true heartbreak. The love of his life was gone. His second chance had been taken away. What he wouldn’t give to see those sparkling baby blues, one last time.

 

There was so much blood, he didn’t know where Rick’s started and Abraham’s ended. He sobbed loudly as he gathered Rick’s limp body in his arms, cradling him. “Oh, Blue Eyes. I love you so goddamn much. I'm so sorry. Please don't leave me.”

 

How could he go on after this? He couldn’t. Rick was his everything. He didn’t want to live without him. He had a taste of true happiness. With Rick gone, he had nothing to live for.

 

He looked around and noticed that every other person in the room was focused on something in front of them. No one would notice. With the loss of life already in this room, what would one more body matter? He reached down and picked up Rick’s Colt, putting it under his chin. “If you go Rick, I’m fuckin’ coming with you.”

 

Just as he was about to pull the trigger, a familiar hand came up, resting on his, pulling the gun away.

 

Negan held his breath. He looked down. A pair of weak, yet still beautiful, baby blue eyes were looking back at him.

 

“You promised… you’d never stop… loving me,” With those words, Rick's eyes closed again.

 

“Rick?" Negan sobbed, dropping the gun. “He’s alive! Someone help me please!”

  
  



	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm crying my eyes out right now. I'm sad to see this end. I want to thank each and every one of you. Those that have read it quietly and never commented. Those that have commented faithfully. Those that have given me kudos. Those that have encouraged me through the entire thing. 
> 
> You all mean the world to me. I'm eternally grateful.

The new scar on Rick's forehead, where the bullet grazed after Abraham stopped it, joins the scar given to him by Shane. Both scars, though each acquired in completely different fashion, relay the same message. He is a survivor.

 

A month later, he still thinks about Abraham constantly. Whether it be when he looks in the mirror, or at his children. Whenever he walks into the station and he's not there, or when he looks at his picture on his desk. He’s always with him.

 

Sasha was given a Medal of Valor during Abraham’s memorial. His family received a purple heart. Rick was honored to give his eulogy, though Negan had to hold him up when he became too distraught to speak.

 

He’s dreaming now. Rick is walking through a forest. The trees are all bare. He shivers as the cold Autumn wind howls through him. The brittle ground beneath him crunches with the leaves that once hung on those very branches. He looks up, sees nothing but gray sky. But something catches his eye. One single _red_ leaf hangs on for dear life. A peace washes over him as he watches the leaf let go and spiral to the ground. It’s Abraham. He’s sure of it. He’s gone now. He’s been laid to rest.

 

***

 

“Wake up,” a hushed voice filtered through Rick’s dreams. “It’s Christmas morning.”

 

Rick was expecting to wake up and see Judith and Carl, excited to rush downstairs and open presents. He blinked and fluttered his eyes, focusing on the figure hovering over him. Negan was perched on his knees, bouncing in childlike fashion. Eyes twinkling and teeth shining bright. “Let’s go see if Santa came.”

 

_Santa._

_This is why I love you._

 

They were doing better emotionally after coming to a mutual agreement that therapy would be beneficial to both of them. Both agreeing, too, that it was a step they wish they had taken sooner. Negan could finally put Lucille to rest, and Rick, well he had come a long way in putting Shane and all of his physical and mental abuse behind him, as well.

 

He’s learned that he will never forget completely, as his scars, inside and out, would be there to remind him. But with Negan and his children by his side, each day was better than the one before.

 

“C’mon,” Negan whined.

 

Carl and Judith were waiting downstairs when Negan finally managed to rouse Rick out of bed. Within a matter of thirty minutes, the living room floor was in complete shambles. Torn wrapping paper and piles of opened gifts everywhere.

 

Carl was busy opening the new gaming system that he’d been dropping hints for during the last month. Judith was sound asleep on top of the wrapping paper heap, holding her new cuddle doll under her arm.

 

“You get everything you wanted for Christmas, baby?” Negan asked, relaxing back on the couch beside Rick.

 

“Yeah. What about you?”

 

Negan sighed. “Almost.”

 

Rick looked at him, then he quickly scanned Negan’s gift pile, looking to see what he could have possibly forgotten.

 

Negan stood up and walked into the kitchen. He came back with his hands behind his back and stood in front of Rick. “There _is_ one thing I didn’t get.”

 

“What?” Rick questioned, looking a little more than slightly confused. “I thought I got every—”

 

“I didn’t get the _perfect_ Christmas gift... yet.” Negan lowered himself down on one knee.

 

Rick’s eyes widened in surprise. Every breath he drew trembled.

 

“Rick,” Negan continued. “I’ve loved you my entire life, but it’s taken me all these years to find you. Now that I have you, I never wanna let you go. Everything you do. Everything you say. Everything you are. I love it all. I love _you_. My life could never be complete without you.”

 

Negan looked back at Carl and Judith. “The same goes for your kids, Rick. They mean the world to me. I wanna watch Carl graduate and grow into more of man than he already is. I wanna be here for all of Judith’s milestones and watch her turn into the beautiful woman she’s destined to be. I want us to be a family, if you’ll have me.”

 

Rick’s hands covered his face and he wept with joy as Negan produced a small black box with two matching wedding bands inside.

 

“Would you do me the honor of being my husband?”

 

Rick didn’t ask for time to think it over. There was no hesitation. He lunged forward and pulled Negan into his arms. Through a deluge of happy tears, he accepted.

 

“I will. I do. I want to be your husband more than anything, Negan. I want you to be a father to my children. I love you so much.”

 

Negan’s eyes slipped shut. He was so thankful. Thankful for the night he met Rick. Thankful for the moment Rick first trusted him. For their first kiss. The first time they made love. Thankful for him surviving. He pulled back after kissing his neck tenderly. He pulled the rings out of the box and took Rick’s left hand.

 

“When you look at this ring,” He slipped it on his ring finger. “I want you to be reminded of my promise to you. To never stop loving you. Sweethearts forever, Blue Eyes.”

 

Rick took the other ring and placed it on Negan’s ring finger. “Best friends and lovers. Sweethearts forever.”

 

Negan pulled Rick up to his feet. Wrapping his arms around him, he lifted him off the ground and spun him around. “I can’t fuckin’ believe it! You are mine. You belong to me.”

 

***

 

Red and royal blue rose petals, left by Judith, lined the aisle. Carl and Simon stood by Negan’s side at the altar, serving as his best men. Negan’s black suit was adorned with a red tie and red rose. He was fidgeting with his cuffs when the doors opened and the music started to play.

 

“I feel like I’m about to pass the fuck out,” Negan whispered to Carl and Simon.

 

They both reassured him he’d be fine.

 

Rick appeared in the doorway, alongside Carol, who would give him away to Negan. He was wearing a black suit that matched Negan’s, with the exception of his tie and rose. They were Royal blue.

 

“Oh my God,” Negan whispered. “The most beautiful man on the face of this earth is walking toward me. To marry _me._ Holy fuckin’ shit.” He couldn’t hold back the tears.

 

Rick’s smile was the brightest object in the room. It was absolutely infectious. Everyone was smiling back at him, including his husband-to-be.

 

“Carol,” Rick whispered as they walked. “I’m gonna cry. What am I gonna do?”

 

“Oh sunshine. You’re gonna cry, that’s what.”

 

And he did.

 

As they got closer, he could see Negan’s own tears as his face glistened with wet trails. Carol placed a kiss on Rick’s tear-soaked cheek before taking her seat. Facing Negan they joined hands.

 

Negan went first with his vows.

 

“Rick, I love you. I promise to never take you for granted. To appreciate you always. To hug you just because. I promise you will never walk alone again. My arms will forever be your home. I promise to never throw another pie at you. And I promise to still grab your butt, even when you’re old and wrinkled.”

 

Negan had managed to make the guests laugh while crying. It was a talent of his that Rick knew all too well.

 

Rick took a deep breath when the Officiant turned to him to recite his vows.  

 

“I was lost. You found me. I was broken. You fixed me. I was sad. You made me smile. I was empty. You filled me up. I felt nothing. You showed me love. I was scared. You held my hand. Negan, there’s not an inkling of doubt in my mind when I say that you saved my life. I don’t know where you came from, or who sent you, but that’s not important anymore. You’re here now. I love you. You’re my best friend. I will love you even on the days I don’t like you. I will support you. I will respect you. I will stand by you no matter what. As I give you my hand to hold, I give you my life to keep.”

 

Every guest was moved to tears. Especially Carol and Maggie. Even Carl was dabbing his eyes with a tissue.

 

“By the authority vested in me by the state of Georgia, I now pronounce you, husband and husband. You may now kiss each other to seal these promises.”

 

***

 

After dinner, Rick and Negan had shed their jackets, rolled up the sleeves of their white dress shirts and cut their wedding cake. Negan, of course, shoved cake in Rick’s face when feeding him. Rick had expected as much. He got even by grabbing both sides of Negan’s face, and kissing him hard. They were both covered in cake, and the biggest, never-ending smiles.

 

“I love you,” Rick whispered.

 

Negan licked Rick’s face clean. “I love you too, Blue Eyes.”

 

The song choice for their first dance was kept a secret from Rick. They joined in the center of the dance floor. Rick never complained once about everyone watching them. The music started to play and he put his head on Negan’s chest, exactly as he did the first time he danced with Negan.

 

_The first time ever I saw your face_

_I thought the sun rose in your eyes_

_And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave_

_To the dark and the endless skies my love_

 

_The first time ever I kissed your mouth_

_I felt the earth move in my hand_

_Like the trembling heart of a captive bird_

_That was there at my command my love_

 

_And the first time ever I lay with you_

_I felt your heart so close to mine_

_And I knew our joy would fill the earth_

_And last 'till the end of time my love_

 

_The first time ever I saw your face_

_Your face_

_Your face_

_Your face_

 

“Negan,” Rick whispered with tearful eyes.  “That song is about me, isn't it? That’s _our_ story.”

 

Negan wiped his eyes. "Baby, I could have written this song, word-for-word, without ever hearing it. It _is_ about you. From the first moment I saw your face. I knew. Somehow I knew you were destined to be mine. And here we are."

 

The newlyweds donned their leather jackets and scarves and exited the building as the guests threw rainbow cake sprinkles around them. They climbed on Negan’s Harley, complete with a _Just Married_ sign, and rode away.

 

***

 

Simon has gotten closer to Rick and is now one of _his_ best friends.

 

Maggie and Glenn announced to the neighborhood, during a party, that Maggie was expecting their second child by Christmas.

 

Carol and Sophia bake cookies and discuss Sophia's future as a pastry chef _and_ her future as a wife to Carl.

 

Sasha has retired from the force and gave birth to her first child with her husband Bob. A therapist who specializes in helping individuals overcome their addictions.

 

Judith has started kindergarten and loves telling everyone she meets how she is the luckiest little girl in the world. She has two daddy's instead of one.

 

Carl is in his second year at Vanderbilt in Nashville. His professor, Hershel Greene, says Carl has a bright future ahead of him... as an Ophthalmologist.

 

Rick and Negan aren't sleeping very well these days. The baby boy that they've adopted is a feisty little guy, but they love Abraham with all their hearts. They vow to raise him to respect others and to see past identifications and labels and to accept him for exactly who he is and who he will be.

 

No matter what.

  



End file.
